Dyevochka
by studio
Summary: A selfcentred queen of vanity is determined to manipulate her new school's Mr Popular - Kai - into dating her for the sake of gaining popularity. But when she falls for him - and into dire trouble - she learns that not everything always goes her way KaiOC
1. Chapter 1

**Dyevochka. Girl.**

**Standard Disclaimer: Don't own anything of common familiarity. Only my own scenarios, scenes and characters.**

**A little unrealistic, certainly. But not too extreme, I'm sure.**

**A story of manipulation, secrets and something a little more sinister.**

**Chapter 1**

The moment his attentive crimson gaze found her he knew she'd been the most popular girl at whichever school she'd last attended.

Hair so dark a brown it was nearly the colour of her school shoes was pinned off her face with bold little red clips, veils of hair all streaked through with purple falling to her waist. Her eyes were such an icy blue that they reminded him of a Russian January, sparkling beneath perfectly arched eyebrows and a soft, fresh cut fringe. Pretty, pretty, pretty.

No. Not quite.

With one extra button daringly undone on a blouse just one size suitably more fitting than the standard, and her uniform skirt hemmed up to a length that he certainly approved of, baring slender thighs clad tight in opaque tights, skin so pale she seemed some ethereal type of being, and mouth painted the same bold red as her nails, she was hot.

Smoking.

Smouldering.

He exchanged a glance with the boy beside him. Tala Ivanov, his best friend of 12 years, made a face that conveyed definite approval.

The whole class seemed to have fallen still at this girl's presence.

And it was so perfectly understandable.

"Allie Michelson, class," their exuberant, 20-something math teacher introduced her. "Now, she's new to the school – not just this class – so please, make her welcome. Allie, there's a spare seat just up there behind Hilary that you can take. If you have any problems, just ask, because your last school might have covered different syllabus."

She smiled, and Kai decided she had nice teeth.

"Of course. Thank you Mr. Pritchett."

He kept his dark eyes on her. Face expressionless, stony; gaze smouldering. She was his. He was _going_ to go there.

Noticing his attention, her cold eyes dropped to his as she strolled so casually up to the desk in front of him, dropping her bag beside it, bending down in a way that pulled her skirt even higher up her leg, pulling it so that it tugged so gloriously against her skin as she got her books out.

She sat down, dragging masses of brown hair over her shoulder and opening her textbook to the appropriate unit.

"Damn," began Kai in Russian, just loudly enough for Tala to hear him, "what wouldn't you give to get her into your bed for a night?"

Tala's chuckle was rich and low, "Yeah, I know right. Her arse is the nicest I've seen in this school since Tara left."

Tara; last year's school captain. Hot. Last day of the year had definitely been a sad one for the male cohort.

"Have that T-Shirt," was the casual response. His eyes fell back onto the girl in front of him, and then back to Tala's. "Want this one," he decided, the Russian words falling off his tongue so smoothly.

To his surprise, Allie swung around to face him, and there was a glimmer of something in her eyes that made him sure that she'd understood everything they'd just said. She smiled, somewhat sheepishly, "Sorry, do you have a pencil? I only have biros, and I hate using ink for maths..."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning forwards to hand her a pencil, eyes dropping very obviously to linger on the first closed button of her shirt. He knew she'd noticed him looking at her chest – he'd have made sure of it if she hadn't - her eyes pinned to his as she thanked him for the pencil, her body turning back to the front, eyes tearing away at the last moment.

It was the most glorious math class he'd ever endured.

* * *

Six seconds of eye contact in math had told me that he was the one to watch out for.

I knew a player when I saw one. He had every characteristic of a classy slut. I bet his mother loved him, but half the girls at this school had been burnt by him.

Unfortunate, I supposed, feeling rather nonchalant about this whole new school thing, because I realised that to make it into the in-crowd here I was going to have to have some sort of involvement with him. Maybe I could pretend to be a lesbian and he could be my she-fag-stag...

I hated school.

Always had.

In the past I'd been at a prestigious French boarding school until my father got into a little too much trouble, and we started gypsy-footing around Europe. Denmark, Spain, Estonia. Lithuania. Norway.

I'd loved Belgium the most. Oh, Holland.

And then Mom decided it was enough. And we left. To here. Some random little town so apparently full of snotty rich kids. BMWs and Mini Coopers filled the student car park. As if that hadn't been enough of a giveaway.

Our neighbourhood was all fenced in. Iron gates and manicured lawns, rose bushes and perfectly trimmed hedges and trees full of blossoms. Every house looked pretty much the same. Mom had bought a pretty small one. But it was just the four of us. Me, Mom, the twins. My little sisters. Identical. Blonde. Seven. Cute. Annoying. Konstantin and Nick, my older brothers, were still running around in Europe. One at university, the other working and making money.

I suppressed a groan when I found my music class.

Him.

Guitar in his lap, pretty girl all dressed in pink with hair to match on his right, and a girl with twin braids and pretty green bows opposite him, sitting next to the red haired boy who'd been beside wonder-boy in math.

The redhead saw me and waved, beckoning me to join them before I could find anyone else and I reason to avoid them.

I shouldn't have been avoiding them anyway. I needed to be popular, if anything. It was like my little security net. I hated being at school so much. Having everyone adore me, want to be me or want to fuck me made it bearable.

And I wasn't stupid or anything. That wasn't why I hated school.

I spoke 6 languages, excelled at Math, Chemistry and Physics – hated biology, loathed it, even – played the piano and bagpipes, and, well, couldn't really give a damn about history but like it was hard to write a few thousand words about whatever happened whenever.

I just didn't like being at school. Cooped up, learning things I didn't really care for, with people I didn't really like, wasting hours and hours that I could have spent doing something far more productive.

"So, where have you wandered in from?" asked this boy with eyes blue and as bright as mine were pale.

All complete with a wink, I replied, "Where do you want me to have come from...?"

He thought for a moment. "Hungary. Their food is almost as good as good old Kiev's."

"Kiev?"

"In Ukraine..." he trailed off, looking like I was the biggest moron on the planet.

I pushed my hair back, flicking my head and half rolling a shoulder. It was the most effective body language I could perform to subtly flaunt my body. And I'd mastered it. "I know where Kiev is. I lived there for a few months when I was little. But I'm from Occitania. Gascony, actually."

The boy-whore with guitar looked up. "My mother's from St-Jean-Pied-de-Port... South of Bayonne..."

For some reason, that made me gain a few points of respect for him. Enough that I gave him a critical once over, much in the same way he had done to me in maths. I always played even. Everything always worked out when you did.

He was fucking handsome. There was no denying that. Well defined features, perfectly angled cheekbones and a well-shaped jaw. Muscular arms, straight teeth, eyes the colour of a blood-stained sunset, thick lashed and sharp, the rest of him all the gossamer colouring of winter. Pale greys and silver blues, moon-pale skin and blue birthmarks I could recognise anywhere.

"You're a Hiwitari!" I exclaimed, the words flying out of my mouth before I even realised I'd thought them.

He and the redhead both gave me an odd look.

"Yeah... Kai. How'd you know that?"

"Birthmarks. I lived in Bayonne... Everyone knows a Hiwitari. Every Hiwitari has those blue triangles somewhere."

He nodded. The two girls looked a little impressed. "Small world," said the pink one, whistling through her teeth. She grinned at me. "I'm Mariah. Welcome to Bakuten Private."

Aw, she seemed so sweet. Bubbly. I was going to be such good friends with her or else, I decided then and there. "Allie..." It seemed odd to me, shaking a girl's hand. We just kissed everyone in France.

"I'm Ebon. You'll really love it here," promised the brunette with the braids, vibrant green eyes lighting up as she spoke.

"Hope so," I said, trying not to sound too dubious or doubtful. I glanced at the redhead boy. "Mr Kiev?"

Obviously his thoughts had been elsewhere. He made an odd noise and snapped back to reality, shaking his head. "Um... Tala. Ivanov. Tala Ivanov."

Ooh, from Russia. Fun place. Fun times.

"Do we ever do anything in this class?" I dared to ask.

Tala shrugged. "Not really. We get assignments. Learn a song from a certain genre, usually, and perform it for assessment. Pretty cruisy class, really."

"Actually," came the voice of someone most definitely older than us, "this term we're studying Eastern European popular music, Mr. Ivanov. Something I'm sure you'll enjoy."

The teacher seemed to have meant it sarcastically, but Tala was all cool and answered back. "I'm from Ukraine and Russia. I lived in St Petersburg for most of my life, _sir_, and I think I know a thing or two about what's cool in Eastern European music. Kruzhok, most certainly, is not," he declared, nodding at the CD case in the man's hand.

"Suggestions, then, Tala?"

"Keetai, Zelyoniy..."

Kai nodded. "Yeah, definitely, Mr Broderick."

He seemed satisfied with that. Someone was an obvious favourite. "I'll take your word for it Kai, and see if I can get my hands on some of their music."

"Really, Brodo-Frodo, I can bring in every album either ever released," assured Tala. "You'll just have to wait until tomorrow... so, well, I guess, we should just get to use today's class, say, as an opportunity to get to know the new girl..."

"There's a new girl?"

Oh, like he hadn't noticed me. Something small died on the inside of me as his eyes fell on me, seeming somewhat surprised. Used to attention and being noticed, I felt annoyed.

"She's from Gascony," Tala informed him, sounding so impressed as he gave me a smouldering wink. Yeah, common reaction to any girl who dares to admit she's French.

"Well, ah... of course. Miss Michelson... I remember now. Seems you're just in time for the new unit. Lucky you. I guess you guys can just do what you want today. We'll have to wait until Friday for our next class though. Tomorrow is Founder's Day. No school. No music class."

Yay, what a brilliant day to start school. Free day already.

As Mr Broderick sauntered off elsewhere amongst his other pupils, Mariah declared that there was a party, of course, and we all had to be there. Or else.

Fair enough.

"Sure. I'll so way be there."

"Seems you're so eager to get to know everyone, Allie," and I had never heard a voice so velvet and dark, so full of undertones that I knew every meaning of, as that of Kai Hiwitari. "You seem like the type of girl everyone is just going to love..." And crimson eyes wanted to melt away the buttons on my blouse once more.

Mariah glared at him, very unimpressed but trying not to convey it. "Sit with us at lunch and you can meet everyone and we can figure out tonight. Tell you who is safe and who to keep away from," her words were said as though they were for me, but I knew they were for Kai.

"Oh, Mariah, you're so sweet. I'm so glad I met you guys first. Makes me feel like I have a good chance of fitting in here," and I smiled, genuinely, although my words were a lot sweeter than my personality.

"Like a hottie like you thought you wouldn't fit in here with a body like that," murmured Kai in French, eyes on the hemline of my skirt and not even trying to be discreet.

"Sorry... I only recognise French. I don't understand it," I lied, "I speak Occitan and Euskara..."

His expression was somewhat unreadable, as though he wasn't sure if that was the truth or not.  
"Oh, I just said not to worry about that. Popularity is just an unnecessary cliché."

He knew I'd understood his French.

I knew it.

And I also knew, right then, that this meant he was going to use that to his advantage.

And I was going to let him.

Because, through him, I had my crown. The modern, school-girl version of Lady Macbeth. Yeah. Sinister.

Queen Bee of Bakuten Private.

He was the popular one here and it was so plain to see. What a perfect pawn. How lucky this day had been. Getting in the good books already.

If he wanted me...

If he wanted me I got him in the palm of my hand, and, indirectly, everyone else as well.

Perfect.

All I had to do was string him along.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

* * *

Music.

Doof. Doof. Doof.

Kai hated it. Kai loved it. He could never make his mind up.

It was so pointless. Empty music.

But it wasn't pointless. Because it made girls do _that_. Blood-dark eyes were watching two of the year's finest shake it in the centre of Mariah's patio, legs all between each other's, shorts short, hands roaming, sinking lower and lower, pushing forth. _Dancing_, apparently, he thought with a dry sort of sentiment.

He hadn't seen her yet. Allie.

But judging by the commotion out the front, the excited babble of his girl-friends like Mariah and Hilary, she'd possibly just arrived.

It was a beautiful car.

Bright, sunshine yellow. Sleek, bold and alluring. He wasn't sure what it was. Something new that he'd never seen before. But she looked damn fine stepping out of it.

The mini-dress she was wearing was tight and low-backed, so deep a blue it was nearly the same nuance as this overlooking night-sky. It had capped sleeves, but a square sort of collar, baring fine pale skin and the most amazing collarbones he'd ever seen. The heels of her white leather boots gave her two inches in height that she didn't really need -she was a good height already - but it didn't really matter.

She looked amazing.

She also looked far too sober for his liking when he said hello to her.

"Do you drink?" he asked, making sure to be quite blasé, but also like he was offering.

She shrugged. "My first day... Not sure it's such a good idea. I mean, I don't really know anyone, and I don't really want to make any poor impressions. I don't even really know my way around. _Plus_, I did drive."

Those burnt-red eyes flickered over her after he rolled them, "Stay over. Mariah won't mind. And if she does... I live across the road..."

She shook her head, declining politely with a smile. But her eyes locked with Kai's, and he knew that she was telling him she wanted to. One day, anyway. "I think I just want to hang out and meet people..."

He snorted, scoffing somewhat as he gave her the most nonchalant, unconvinced look she'd ever received. "Sure... Come inside then. The others are all in there... _drinking_..."

Pressure, much? She found it a little off putting. In some sort of reaction, with some sort of intention of taunting him for being like that, she walked in front of him. Sauntered. Shaking her hair back, heels clicking as they struck the floor, dress tight and boldly conforming to the lines of her body as she made her way inside. If she was drunk, his hands would totally have dared to touch that butt.

She might have even giggled.

"Oh my goodness!" her voice sounded as surprised as he felt watching her throw her arms around a stunningly handsome Enrique. "I haven't seen you in, like two years!"

Her hands were on his muscular shoulders as they exchanged friendly kisses, so stereotypically European.

Mariah seemed incredulous. "You _know_ each other?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Mari-Moo," it was a nickname that only – and _only_ – Enrique could get away with using, "We went to school together in France."

"Like, the same school as Ollie? And Evie?"

Enrique nodded. "Yeah, at St. Louis. Since we were about 11 until I left."

Allie was shaking her head. "I left first. We went to Estonia and Norway and stuff. It was pretty abrupt. I was so pissed because I didn't get to say goodbye to you."

"Yeah! That's right... I remember now. You just disappeared."

Allie seemed a little bitter about it, but so happy to see him at the same time. Out of nowhere, her eyes grew wide. "Oh I get it now! Mom must have moved here because your Dad's my godfather. They're best friends. He must be helping her out, I guess. Divorce blues," she added at Enrique's inquisitive expression. He made a face.

"That sucks. Oh, but Allie it's so nice to see you. We should celebrate!" Somehow a bottle of vodka made it into his hands.

Kai watched her decline again.

Enrique raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, come on, lady. You know you want to..."

Shots were poured. All lined up on the bench in rows of three.

"No." Her voice was so firm.

"Mademoiselle," Kai recognised his cousin's voice, Oliver wrapping skinny little arms around Allie's waist. "Don't be silly. You drink, I drink, Enri drinks. We all drink. Fun, fun."

"You're here too?"

"Apparently, Allie."

She grinned. "Ok. I drink, you drink. We all drink."

It was so weird, she thought, but so understandable, that two of her best friends were here. Their parents had all been the closest of friends for life, and her mother wasn't really doing too well. She needed to be around those who could hold her up.

And Kai watched on, amazed, as three shots of vodka went down like nothing at the 'skill' of this skinny little Gascon girl. No shudder, no choking, no flinching.

"Egh," came the only noise of disapproval from her. "What the hell kind of vodka is that? Swedish, probably. Not used to doing that without a bit of bread," she mumbled, shooting a dark glare at Enrique, who just flashed her one of those amazing smiles.

If there was any guy Kai could potentially be jealous of... It was so Enrique. Italian Stallion. Blonde, blue eyed. All golden skin and firm muscles. Charmingly European. Sleazy, but not - because he was Italian and therefore just charming and flirtatious. Always dressed in crisp shirts, shiny shoes and pressed pants, but always seeming so casual at the same time.

But, it appeared that he didn't have to worry anyway, because this whole thing between him and Allie seemed so exaggeratingly platonic. It made Kai happy. No competition.

He'd have her by the end of the term. Easy.

Any girl would have been flattered and giggling at attention from a boy like Kai Hiwitari, but Allie recognised what was behind that glimmer in those eyes, and she was glad... Because she was getting was going to get what she wanted out of him, because he thought she was going to fall into his hands and play his pig-headed game.

But Allie Michelson was no fool.

A flash of red streaked past her, and she glanced in its direction, taking note of Tala frolicking around in the bar, pouring a drink for each hand as a bronzed blonde clad in a little red dress latched herself to his side, kissing his neck.

He smiled, offering the girl a drink, looking up to find Allie watching him. He nodded in her direction, smiling at her. "Nice to see you made it out," and she wasn't too surprised to hear a little bit of a Russian accent slackening his English. A few drinks too many to maintain it, most likely.

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world."

"Oh my god! You're so pretty... Are you new?" the girl with Tala giggled, sipping on her drink. Tala chuckled.

Allie smiled. "Yeah, I am. I, like, love your dress. It's so cute. My name is Allie."

"I'm Carmen," she giggled again, turning in Tala's hold to look at him before turning back to Allie. "Are you drinking? Tala, you should get her something to drink," she turned to him before Allie could answer, and he seemed only happy to comply, passing over the drink in his hand.

Allie grimaced. "Oh, I don't know... I really don't think I should be getting drunk..."

Hand on her hip, Carmen offered her a very pretty smile. "Oh, come on. There's no school tomorrow anyway. And, like, we like you. Come have fun," she stumbled over her words, syllables all broken up by giggles.

Tala leaned forwards, "Really. It's all good fun. Promise. What kind of European girl says no to a drink?" He winked, and she reluctantly took the drink from his hand and he turned and backed Carmen into a corner in the kitchen, kissing her like he couldn't care if the entire world was watching.

It was pretty nice, the drink, she concluded. But she didn't really want to be getting drunk.

Oh, but what did it matter? Enrique and Oliver weren't strangers. And everyone else was. At least she'd be more talkative. Fun. They'd all want to hang out with her more.

A few more drinks later and she was dancing.

Like, _dancing. _Moving on that floor like liquid sex and sugar.

Doof. Doof. Doof.

Hilary, Tala, Carmen, Enrique and Allie. Like a pot of fire, blazing to the beat.

Her tongue was probably too loose from the alcohol to talk right now – Kai wasn't really sure – but hell, she could dance.

And she gave into peer pressure, he'd noticed.

What a perfect weakness to discover in her.

As Carmen and Tala turned away and found their lips all over one another, Kai made his way to Allie, and she grinned up at him, hands finding his hips, her own sinking low, catching him up in the beat and rhythm and roll of whatever song was playing.

He wasn't sure if she was always like this, or just drunk, but she didn't seem to care about roaming hands. Maybe she just liked dancing. Maybe she was a little promiscuous. Maybe he was just as hot as all the other girls had led him to believe he was.

Then, in a movement that seemed to make the earth crash all around him, she backed off and skipped off somewhere.

He figured she'd gone to the bathroom, and waited in the stairwell for her.

"Stalker, much?" she commented when she saw him.

He shook his head, trying to act like a nice guy. Oh, well, he was. He just liked fun. And women. "Wouldn't want you to get lost in this house while you're new and all. You only met everyone today."

"Not Enrique and Oliver," she protested, an indignant finger prodding his chest.

"My bad..."

She seemed to be looking for something in his expression, eyes peering into his, hand still against his chest.

"You know," he began, voice so low and rich and molten, as always, barely above a whisper, "I find it hard to believe that you can spend four years at St Louis and not understand French..."

She was drunk enough to seem delighted at his comment. "Guess it's something for just us... Entre nous..." And her voice broke into charming little giggles.

"Oui. Entre nous..." Between us.

He'd thought that was a good cue to lower his head down and kiss her, but before his mouth could find her the hand on his chest had pushed back.

"Um, like, I don't think so." And the sound of a short, almost harsh little laugh found its way to his ears.

She could hardly walk, but she could refuse God's gift to women a kiss.

He was a little surprised, but he stepped back. "Sorry."

The look she gave him before she stumbled off back to the party was unreadable, and he wasn't sure what she was trying to convey. Something mixed with curiosity, he was sure.

So, it wasn't go to go as easy as he'd hoped. Oh, but that would have such a great feat. Perfect story to share with the guys. Getting a girl like that on her first day. He should have known. He had known. Just... hoped. Having his way with her would be the best thing ever no matter how long it took anyway. She was going to take a bit of work, it seemed. Especially if she could be that drunk and still say no to _him_.

But he'd always like a challenge.

Thank you for reading :)  
R&R pleeeeease. Update when I can.


	2. Chapter 2

So, hey, thanks for reading! Thanks for the reviews and the favourites and all of that :) It's always nice.

Um.

Ok. So this chapter turned out a lot more racy than I intended it to. So I upped the rating. Also, lots of nasty swear words. It's a long chapter, but hopefully worth the time to read it.

"Dyevochka", by the way, is Russian for "girl".

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Grounded.

_Grounded_.

My first week here and I was fucking grounded already.

Like it wasn't bad enough moving here in the first place. No, the first opportunity I seized to actually, Heaven forbid, have a little fun in this hell-hole and she'd _grounded_ me for it.

Like there was anywhere to go out to here anyway.

Oh, it had been totally worth it though.

I was delightfully proud of myself.

In my first day – my _first _damned day – I'd already gotten under the skin of the most popular boy in my new school. Shoved the bait right in his face and snatched it back away from him. It would make him want me more, and I knew it.

But... grounded.

Ugh, how annoying. There was a party this weekend and they would totally all be going – including Kai – and I really needed to start building up the foundations of my ... empire.

Fuck. Someone as gorgeous as Kai could get any girl – well, except me, teehee – and I really needed every opportunity I could to make his eyes only for me. The moment I got that boy begging at my feet was the moment I had broken through the cliques and social elitist rankings of this school. I was born to be the most adored. To be the centre of attention. Power. My biggest penchant.

Fuuuuuuuuuuck, I couldn't believe I was grounded. I wanted to scuttle off to my bedroom and throw stuff on the floor and stamp my stilettoed feet as loudly as I could and throw the sort of tantrum that not even the twins could dream of displaying.

I'd never been grounded before.

I'd never really stumbled home and shattered her favourite water jug into 78 sparkly little shards on her newly tiled kitchen floor or spilt tomato sauce all over the carpet in the hallway either, but, hell, she didn't have to ground me.

Even now, three days later, she didn't look impressed with the sight of me.

We were having lunch. Saturday lunch. And she looked simply murderous whenever our eyes met. It wouldn't last. Couldn't. It was lunchtime on Saturday. Saturday lunch solved everything, always.

It had always been my favourite meal as a child. Actually, right up until we started pissbolting all around Europe, I'd adored lunch on Saturdays.

Even when we started moving around, even when everything else was all changing and chaotic, Saturday lunch was our constant little piece of stability. The one little piece of nostalgia of better times and concrete domesticity.

Even in winter we ate outside on the balcony – in the other months if the weather was nice we'd eat in the garden – and there were always bottles of wine and bowls of fruit, cheeses and breads, and whatever other dishes Nana and mom felt like serving us.

The women in my mother's family were impressive cooks.

I wasn't an exception, certainly. And now that we no longer lived with my grandmother, I was supposed to be filling the gap. Except, mom didn't need me to. With my father wherever the fuck in the world he was, my brothers were both in locations a little less vague and my cousins Estève, Donat and Carle were still with my grandmother in Occitania, and mom didn't need to use another pair of hands in the kitchen. Thank goodness. Ladies should have soft hands and nice nails. Not kitchen-weathered claws.

So, here I was at Saturday lunch.

Instead of six hungry males outnumbering five little French females, there was a mere four girls sitting at this empty lunchtime table.

Me. Grounded little old me.

Mom.

And B1 and B2.

As cute as they were, I knew better than to be too careless around them.

Tamara and Mireil. The only blondes to ever exist in our family since my father's father died as an 18-year-old.

The most conniving, manipulative, ruthless members of our family, and they were these pint-sized pipsqueaks. They hardly looked scarier than a pair of butterflies. It was a dangerous deception. The business would be theirs, easy, if Papa got himself out of this mess.

As sisters we had the same ice-pale azure eyes.

But theirs were cold. Always. They had beautiful smiles and the most cheerful, delicate laughs, but, damn, I'd never seen either reflected in their eyes.

They looked for all the world like they held all the attributes of our mother's family. But that iciness, that severe, obvious level of sheer independence and impartiality was something I'd only ever seen in blood relatives of my father.

They were certainly his daughters.

He was a cold, distant man, my father.

But he loved us. He loved my mother. Adored her. Doted on her. Never wanted children but had five for her, and loved us, because he'd loved her first. He was a wonderful father. I missed him.

"Calquecop le pa que be quand las denses s'en soun anandos, _Mireil_," the Occitan words slipped so coldly from Tamara's mouth that they sounded nearly as frosty as the nuance of her eyes.

Sometimes the bread arrives after the teeth are gone.

She was too young to understand it figuratively.

I watched as Mireil sniffed and tore a piece of bread off the loaf, only to ignore Tamara and eat it herself.

Apparently the terrible twosome was having a dispute.

Mom watched on and took a sip of her wine, looking as amused as she could without getting in the bad books of the twins.

Had I not known her for every moment of her life, I'd never have known Tamara was so potently furious. She was so composed, looking so delicate and graceful sitting beside her twin, opposite our mother, the lines of her body poised, features of her face so impossibly expressionless, hands folded in her lap, pretty blue summer dress shifting over pale skin as tossed her head to the side to flick a lock of hair over her shoulder. Her eyes betrayed her, all full of a poisonous, deathly blue.

Hiding my grin, I stood up and passed Tamara the bread.

Our eyes met, and at that moment I felt like trying not to laugh at my angry baby sister was the most difficult task I'd ever faced in my life, and she said a little thank you. She didn't touch the bread. Mireil snatched it back. My jaw hurt from trying not to laugh.

Mom left, and quickly, pottering off into the kitchen as to get something. Through the window I saw her laugh to the point of tears as she scooped some olives into a bowl. I smiled to myself – there were olives in the salad. Sneaky. She just didn't want them getting pissed off at them when she was entertained by something they found so serious. Clever, though. All this animosity between the pair of them would be turned on her, and those two could wreak havoc like a storm.

"Girls," she began, and with that sweet tone of voice I knew she definitely wasn't talking to me, "I want you to clean your room this afternoon, please."

The cold glower they both turned to pin her with, so perfectly simultaneously it seemed choreographed, was priceless. I couldn't help but snicker.

"We're having guests over for dinner. Guests won't be impressed by the pair of you if they think you're messy little girls who can't act civil to one another, will they?"

Dull, quiet little mumbles, "No..."

"Mireil, sweetie," they might have been the ice queens, but I had always been the mischief-making bitch in the family, "could you pass me the bread please?"

With a nod that sent her feathery blonde hair fluttering in the breezes, the child passed me the plate of bread – right past Tamara's face.

She kicked me under the table, clearly fully aware of the motivation behind it all, and I laughed.

"Cranky, aren't we, Miss Mara?" I asked, and before she could respond my fingers were dancing all up her sides, tickling her until she erupted into giggles and the sour expression her face had been frozen over with melted away.

Mom looked thankful. As amusing as their arguments were to watch, they took it much too far at times, and we didn't need them bickering while others were around.

"Off you go, mes chéries," demanded Mom as soon as they'd both finished eating, and after they'd scooted off inside, clambering up the stairs, azure eyes the same wintry hue of my own turned on me.

"Feel like helping me cook?"

I shrugged, noting that my shirt was a little stiff in the shoulders. "Nice of you to tell me we were having a housewarming..."

She pinned me with a dry, somewhat disdainful look, and snorted. "Doesn't matter. You weren't going to be going anywhere anyway. Last I checked, mademoiselle, you're grounded."

I let out a huff of air and sullenly crossed my arms over my chest, in the most immature manner I possibly could. She just arched an eyebrow, as though to point out that childishness wasn't very becoming of me.

"My old friends are all here. I thought it appropriate to invite them over. Antoinette and Percy Polanski are going to be here with Oliver and Fayette. The Giancarlos and Anne-Marie and Genevieve..."

And then came the punch that knocked the air out of me.

"And Capucine and Kai Hiwitari."

Lucky I'd finished my wine, or Mom would've ended up with a brilliant splatter of red spluttered all over her new lace-trimmed white table cloth. She seemed surprised at my reaction.

And then I realised why she'd grounded me.

* * *

It was hard to believe that Anna Michelson's eldest child was 24 – her hair was the colour of molten chocolate, so glossy and dark, void of even the barest thread of grey, held up in an elegant twist, a delicate pin embellished with pearls and diamonds sparkling above her left ear; eyes were that impossibly light shade of blue, so pale they seemed to have hardly any colour at all; and her features were so impeccable. Perfectly high-set cheekbones, the lines about her eyes only visible when she smiled – and her smile was so breathtakingly vibrant that the lines simply went unnoticed anyway. She looked hardly a day over 33, skin so radiant, touched with a slick of pale gold light from several ornate lanterns built into the walls of the lounge room... sitting room...whatever... where they were waiting for the others to arrive.

If he hadn't already known her age, Kai would have choked on the mouthful of champagne he was indulging in when Anna happily announced her plans for her 45th birthday. Tala did, scowling when Kai snickered at his misfortune.

However, he reacted with mild surprise when she mentioned that her 45th was also Allie's 17th.

"You're 17 already though, aren't you Kai?" the syllables rolled off her tongue so eloquently, rounded with the touch of a mixture of accents.

Kai nodded, murmuring softly, the warm taste of the wine lingering on his tongue, "My birthday is in February. An exact month before Tala's, actually."

"Oh...?" the surprised woman turned her attention to the redheaded boy beside him. "You have grown into quite a stunning young man, Yuriy Ivanov. You too, Kai, of course," she was quick to add, taking a sip of her wine as a thought seemed to develop itself into words, "It must be about – oh, I don't know – nine years since I've seen either of you... No, no... I was pregnant.. So, seven years, just about..." She looked to Capucine, seeking confirmation that was granted with a stony-faced nod.

Neat blue brows drew together into a narrowing frown. He didn't remember ever having seen this woman before. Ever. He caught a sad little glimmer of some greyed emotion flicker in her eyes, and knew then that she'd been at his aunt's funeral seven years ago. He hardly remembered that week. Just blood on the tiles in the kitchen and his mother's skinny little sister convulsing like someone possessed, all these demons hidden inside of her finally revolting, rising up out of her in the most tragically violent of ways. It was a memory that scarred him, but he was glad that Anna had been there for his mother.

He'd never known it – not until about 24 minutes earlier – but this exquisite woman was technically his godmother. Technically. It had been Voltaire's decision – the only good one he'd ever, ever made, decided Kai a little bitterly – but his mother wasn't the type of person to slam religion into her son as she'd been shoved into a convent as a 13-year-old. A 13-year-old mother of a blue-haired baby Kai, and he'd been taken off to her aunt's and raised with her cousins.

And then she turned 18 and he was hers again.

And things had gone pretty smoothly since. Capucine had been so determined to raise him well. And she had, he thought proudly, the sentiment for his mother more than himself. He'd turned out good – damn fucking good – and it was all because of her. It was all for her. His mother was easily the single most important person in his life.

He cared about her.

All of his caring attitudes and feelings towards women were gathered up in bucketfuls for his mother.

All the girls he knew were there for fun. Mutual, of course. But, he didn't ever want to have to care for anyone.

After all the shit he'd been through, he just wanted to be free and fun and aimless. He had everything he wanted.

Including a reputation to maintain.

And his godmother's daughter was perfect for the cause.

He didn't feel guilty in the slightest.

Especially when he heard her smooth voice call out and wrap itself up in Occitan words, followed by the _click! clack! click! _of painful sounding shoes. Her mother turned around to face the arched entrance behind her seat as Allie turned into the room, oddly cast shadows sliding over her body, accentuating her assets oh-so-perfectly. Oh, what was that anyway? Her _assets_? Sure, she had a bone structure other girls would murder for, and a butt and breasts that guys would murder to get their hands on, but hell, she was fucking incredible all over. Taking another long look at her, he noted that he'd have loved to have her standing there, wearing only those delicate shadows.

Fire met ice as she lowered her eyes to his from across the room, and her pretty red mouth grinned in a way that any other person would have taken simply as friendly. But oh no, the undertones of that smile weren't lost on him – she knew what he was thinking... That look may have seemed innocent enough, but it was definitely made up of pure deviltry.

Tala glanced at his best friend... he'd seen whatever was behind that smile too... and grinned inwardly. It would be amusing to watch. To wait and see what would happen between the pair. The whole week at school he'd been the wallflower peering in on all of this subtle, secret communication.

Although, if had his way with her and she got hurt – and they always did – it would probably get messy, with their families being so close and all. But... Allie seemed different. Like she was the one tugging on the chain, not the other way around. Kai wouldn't get upset or anything if he didn't come out triumphant in all of this... but it seemed neither would Allie. Though, he supposed, he didn't really know her well enough to pass that judgement.

"Oh, sorry," she apologised for using Occitan in front of her guests, switching easily to English, "I didn't realise you'd arrived already.... Mom, um the Mrs Giancarlos just called. Genevieve had to go to hospital yesterday – oh, she's ok, don't worry," she added hastily as her mother's face paled in reaction, "but, she's still there sorting some stuff out so the Giancarloses are going to pick her up and bring her and Anne-Marie over later. Probably in about 40 minutes, I suppose."

Anna nodded slowly, as though calculating something and paying vague attention to the situation at hands. "Guess we better get into that kitchen, missy and get some food happening..."

Allie's cherry-red lips flattened into an unimpressed line, and Kai had never seen anyone convey anywhere near the amount of utter, sullen disdain that flashed in her eyes.

"Oh, Anna, let the kids get to know each other... I'll fulfil my domesticated-motherly duty and help out in the kitchen," Kai's young mother offered, sliding off the couch onto feet in dainty white shoes with little silver buckles. She looked so much like her son – all those gossamer pale shades of silvers, blues and alabaster-white skin, triangular birth marks hidden beneath a bracelet on her wrist, eyes a startling blue - a Hiwitari trait that Kai had missed out on – and full of a youthful cheeriness that matched the smile her face was set in. She didn't look a day over 30. Because she wasn't. Yet. One more month and 25 days to go.

Kai couldn't wait. It was going to be the biggest party of the year. Undoubtedly.

Anna rolled her eyes and somehow still managed to look absolutely ladylike, but didn't refuse, taking Capucine by the arm and leading her off into the kitchen.

"So, Allie Michelson, how about you come and _get to know _us?" his tone innocent as ever, Kai patted the other end of the sofa he was sitting on.

The girl's face relaxed into a pleasant sort of expression, though she didn't smile, and she sauntered into the room, the movement so fluid and natural, so effortless, that she seemed to glide, slinking into the chair her mother had previously occupied. "My pleasure, gentlemen..."

Crossing one slender-muscled leg over the other, she leaned forwards, elbow resting on her knee, flawless face cupped in a lean, pale hand.

"So, apparently our darling mothers go way back..." she sounded so bored, tapping a pair of fingers to her lip and casting her gaze downwards to see if her lipstick had smudged.

"Our mothers? _Please_, Allie, let's talk about you..."

A strange look, consisting of a mixture of some smouldering emotion and a little genuine delight, flickered across her face as she sank lower into her seat, folding her arms across her chest.

"What would you like to know?"

She asked, as though daring them to push the limits of appropriateness.

"Which languages you speak....?"

Moonlight-blue eyes blinked, but Allie hid her surprise well, answering smoothly, "English, obviously, Occitan, Euskara and Lithuanian." And French, but Tala didn't need to know that.

Tala's face fell. "Lithuanian? But... _why?_"

The girl chuckled, her laughter delicate and pretty. It made Kai smile. "I just like Lithuania..."

"Again. _Why?_"

Smirking, she informed them, "I learnt Lithuanian so I know what to say yummy Lithuanian men..."

Tala looked as though he'd swallowed a bug and washed it down with arsenic water. "Gross. Lithuanians are a bunch of pussies. You'll find the real men in Russia," he promised, a pale finger pointing from himself to Kai.

"Russians are far too temperamental for my liking," she replied without looking up from a detailed inspection of her nails.

Across from her, Kai scoffed. "And French girls are far too predictable and quixotic."

"Lucky I'm not French, then."

Both boys went still, shocked. "Really?"

"Really really."

"Your dress is," Kai pointed out, much to her surprise.

"So, you have an eye for Chanel? Sounds a bit gay to me. How disappointing."

He didn't seem offended. "Mom is a designer, and French, and an adorer of everything Chanel. My hands have slipped several Chanel dresses off ex-girlfriends, so there's no need for disappointment, Allie."

"So you should have. No girl wears Chanel like I do."

And it was so true. The dark material, some midnight shade of purple, was soft and thin, inexplicably delicate, seemed to hardly whisper against that luminously pale skin, caressing her lithe frame like a shadow, the sweetheart neckline showing off those collarbones and the slightest curve of visible cleavage. When she was standing it fell to her knees, but she was sitting, legs crossed, and its skirt had fallen back to her mid thigh, shimmering fabric fanning out on her seat.

He bet that underneath was black lace with lilac embroidery or lace. He was certain.

"Anything else pike your interest...?" she took another sip of wine, eyes pinned on Kai's as she ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip in a fashion that almost innocent.

The moment following was full of silence, the two boys picking through their thoughts.

"Want to come out to another party on Friday?"

She huffed a short, bitter little laugh. "If I'm not still grounded."

Tala snickered, "You're grounded?"

The look she gave him sent him recoiling like he'd been struck in the face with hot metal. "Mother wasn't particularly pleased with my state of being at 3am on Thursday morning."

Kai shook his head at her. "I told you to stay..."

She shot him a dry look. "At the place of a girl I'd met that very day? Hardly appropriate."

"I live across the road from Mariah. You could have stayed the night."

He got the impression that she thought the notion was somewhat comical. "What, have you never stayed the night at a boy's house before, Allie?" his voice dropped to a soft, low tone, barely above a whisper, eyes of a rich mahogany searching for any sign of a reaction reflected in eyes of delicate blue. Brazenly, he dared to take his question a step further, "What about in a boy's bed...?"

Black-lashed eyes snapped away. "Discussing this topic is not quite ladylike enough to be appropriate for me."

Her tone suggested otherwise. Both boys picked up on it, exchanging sideways glances.

A charge of oddly blue light filled the dim room, and Tala jumped to his feet, a vibrating phone in his right hand. "Shit. Sorry guys. It's Carmen. Better answer it..." and he strode out of the room, muttering "Hey, what's up?" into his phone.

Kai watched him, and turned back to Allie as Tala shut the door behind him. "Just us..."

"Just us," she repeated after him.

* * *

He was obviously the type of guy who was hot, knew it, and got everything – every _girl_ – he'd ever wanted.

If our families hadn't been close enough that I'd known he and his mother had gone through some terrible shit in the past, I'd have thought him a total egotistical jerk.

And he thought he had a chance getting in my pants. Well, I had every intention of letting him believe he could. Jerk. Mariah had warned me about him. About his history of breaking the hearts of girls who'd all thought he'd wanted something more from them. She hadn't needed to warn me. Everything about him indicated as much. The way he spoke, the way he walked. The way his friends acted around him. The way girls always watched him walk past. The way he dared to let his eyes drop below a girl's neckline when talking to her because he knew he could get away with it.

His mother was so sweet. And their relationship was so obviously affectionate. They weren't the kind of mother and son who fought over anything. He very obviously adored his mother. It seemed odd to me that he could act like such a prick – and especially to girls – considering the relationship with his mother, and the knowledge of what she had been through. It wasn't particularly well known, but his father had fled for his life when he'd found out his 13-year-old girlfriend – the daughter of the terrifying Voltaire Hiwitari – was pregnant.

It must have wrecked her. I didn't understand how he could treat girls like game pieces after what his mother had been through. It obviously didn't faze him much.

"You should come on Friday if you can," he insisted, folding his arms across his chest, "It'll be a good night. I'd be really glad if you made it."

All those "jerk" sentiments melted out of me. He sounded so genuine, like he was actually just being friendly, and for once there was no underlying message, no "I just want you to be there so I can eye-rape the fuck out of you, get you drunk and do it for real" hidden away beneath what he was saying.

I shrugged. "Maybe. It'd be nice to get to know you all better. It's a good opportunity."

He smiled, and fuck he was handsome. His smile changed his entire face, those dark eyes lighting up, the planes of his face losing all of that coldness, and his appearance suddenly became so warm and friendly. Maybe he really was a nice guy. Maybe all this player shit was just a subconscious reaction to what happened to Capucine. This smile made me curious. Perhaps I'd get more than just popularity out of pursuing him. Maybe it was worth trying to break that stoic, cold exterior too.

But I had unfinished business to attend to first. I hated leaving anything hanging. That would have to be all cleared up first.

"It's a great opportunity. Mariah and Ebon will be there too. And Carmen. Those three will probably become really good friends of yours."

"What about you Kai? Are we going to be good friends too?"

He smiled again, and my heart skipped a beat. Get over it, I hissed inwardly. I needed to keep myself in control to get what I wanted out of this situation. "Of course Allie. I'm sure we'll end up friends."

Something in his voice told me that 'just friends' wasn't what he wanted out of me.

But I already knew that.

Tala wandered back into the room, stopping at the doorway, a lean hand running through that fiercely red hair. "The others just got here. Your mother asked me to tell you both to come into the dining room."

I finished my wine in one gulp – possibly not the best idea I'd had that day – and felt a spur of dizziness shoot through me for a fleeting moment, before I followed Kai and Tala out of the room.

Genevieve looked awful. Dark hair thin, skin an unhealthy, ghostly pallor for someone so golden tanned, eyes tired, limbs thinner than ever, bandaids on her wrists where drips had been.

A great sadness wrenched at my insides, seizing me. I just wanted to cry, looking at her. I'd seen her thrice for the first time in years, for the first time since she'd been diagnosed with cancer, and seeing the girl who'd been my best friend for so much of my childhood withered down by such a devastating illness was excruciatingly painful. She was cheery enough, joking around with everyone, eating the lamb my mother had cooked in a tradition Gascon style, but I felt torn in pieces.

Kai brought up her hospital visit, out of pure concern, and she grimaced a bit because she knew her condition saddened him. "I just fainted yesterday and hit my head when I fell. So, I had to get monitored in case of concussion, and they checked my blood and stuff, and I had to get a big vitamin dose and stuff. But it's ok. I'm fine. They don't think I'm going to need any more chemo either. But, I guess, they were wrong last time. Just when my hair started growing back," she laughed, and it was nice to see she could find something to smile about with this whole situation.

Beside her Enrique smiled a small smile that didn't reach his sad blue eyes, his expression conveying the feelings everyone sitting at this table was sure to be feeling.

It was pretty cool that our families were all connected. Mom was Kai's godmother. Capucine was Antoinette Polanski's cousin, so Oliver and Fayette were Kai's second cousins or something like that. Percy was Anne-Marie's (Genevieve's mother) brother, and Genevieve and I were both the Giancarlo's goddaughters. And, Kai and Tala had disclosed earlier when we were alone, that Capucine was Tala's legal guardian.

Every person at this table was connected.

It was a comforting thought.

The twins seemed to be in love with Tala, and he seemed just as impressed with whatever they were bantering on about as they were with him. Oliver and Genevieve were deep in conversation, as were all of our parents, and Kai was talking with Fayette, a pretty little thing, as elfin in appearance as her name, all long green hair, emerald in shade and glossy and luscious, and slender limbs and piercing violet eyes, so alike her brother.

No matter where I tried to force my attention, my focus seemed to keep wandering back to Enrique, my eyes always quick to follow.

I'd really missed him. I was annoyed that my mother hadn't told me we were moving to where he lived. I was annoyed that she'd left in until the last minute to tell me he was coming over tonight. I'd have washed my hair and gone through all the boxes in the spare room to find a nicer dress to wear. I'd have made his favourite biscotti, and found a bottle of his favourite dessert wine.

And oh, Kai was here too. And I need to make a good impression.

I hated how bare our house was. All the walls were undecorated, dull, and so uninviting. Like either of them were impressed by that. Ugh, and the food was so homely and comforting, but nothing exquisite. I should have cooked, damn it. But then I'd never have had the time to get ready. Fuck, that blasted woman could have told me earlier that these two particular boys were coming over.

Here I was, looking like a fool with an empty house, boring food and a dress that was nice but nothing particularly stunning and with my hair up because it wasn't in any state to be worn out.

It was getting hard to breathe. My composure was faltering, and the strength and potency of my perfectionism was starting to overcome me as my eyes wandered around the dining room, from its revoltingly undecorated walls, the stupid lampshades, the horribly uncolour-coordinated flowers on the table, the lamb with vegetables scattered so unceremoniously all about it. Enrique, my long lost best friend. Kai, the key to what I needed more than anything. My bloody little sisters who looked so fucking, irritatingly adorable in their matching pink dresses with their matching golden curls.

I could hardly breathe. This was all fucked up. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I knew I was hot. I worked damn hard for my body. But that alone wasn't going to make me popular. My entire being relied on being desirable. I had no idea why, but I hated not always being the centre of attention. And even sitting at this blasted table I wasn't. I needed to bail.

I excused myself, and whether anyone noticed or not was beyond me because I didn't wait for a response, and bounded up the stairways towards the bathroom attached to my new bedroom.

"Allie? Are you ok?"

Enrique's voice had never been so welcome, as hesitant as it was as he slowly turned into the bathroom where I was patting my face with water, careful not to let it wet my mascara. I don't know how he found me. This house had the most confusing layout.

I nodded. "Of course I am."

He knew how I was – how I liked everything to be immaculately perfect – so he knew I was lying.

Shaking his head, a sad, helpless and sympathetic sort of looking crossing his handsome features, he made his way over to me and turned the tap off, hands moving to my shoulders and turning me to face him. He kissed my forehead, and told me that everything was fine and I didn't need to worry.

"I know... but, oh, Enri, I just..." my voice trailed off, my tongue unable to find the words to express how I was feeling. But he knew me well enough to know anyway, and his hands gently squeezed my shoulders.

"I can hardly believe you moved here...."

I nodded. "Me too. I was so angry that I didn't get to say goodbye to you..."

He smiled, and he looked as charming as he always had. "It's okay."

I was happy and sad and full of regrets and bitterness and full of absolute delight all at once. It was overwhelming. I felt compelled to cry or something. "I missed you so much," the words tumbled out of my mouth in something of a choked whisper, and I lifted my eyes to his.

"Same..." he breathed in softly, and the moment seemed stuck in suspension before he lowered his head down and kissed me just like he used to years ago.

This was the boy I'd always thought, as a fourteen-year-old, that I'd grow up to marry. This was a boy who'd last kissed me as a fifteen-year old, and he hardly seemed to be a boy anymore. He'd grown, matured. The body that had once been lithe and skinny, shorter than my own, was muscular and taller than me by a good 5 inches, even in these shoes. A face that had once been cute and somewhat pretty was fiercely handsome. Hands that used to explore my body so naively once upon a time now knew exactly where they were wandering. This kiss wasn't sweet like they had always been in the past. No, this was burning and feverish, almost like it was urgent, like we both wanted to assure each other that we hadn't forgotten, mixed in with a tinge of some deeper emotion... Almost like it should be forbidden or sacred or something. We were hardly the same people we were nearly three years ago. He'd changed. I certainly had. But this was needed. To seal everything off.

He kissed me so fiercely that my head spun, feeling hands sliding the comb out of my hair and it all tumbling down over my shoulders as his mouth burned against mine. He had me backed up against the wall, his deliciously firm body pressed closely to mine. My skin felt like it was on fire wherever his hands touched, and I moaned into his mouth as one of his hands took up a handful of my hair and the other traced along the neckline of my dress only to trail down my side to trace my butt and brush my thigh through my dress. His lips chuckled against mine and left them to blaze down my neck as his hands both found my thighs, venturing up under my dress, fingertips acquainting themselves with the texture of soft lace before they disappeared suddenly, and he started kissing me again.

This was certainly not the childlike, innocent Enrique I'd grown up with, I realised, as he smoothly undid my dress and slipped me out of it like it was water off an oiled surface, my own hands numbly undoing the buttons of his fitted black shirt, the action so vague and automatic as my leg shifted to the outside of his, separating my legs with one of his. My mind was elsewhere as he kissed along the edge of my bra, the touch of his lips so light and so heavy all at once, and I pushed his shirt back to his elbows but came to a sudden halt right there as the hands that had been stilled on my hips wandered where they most probably would have years earlier if I'd never left France and a flash-fast torrent of pure, electrifying pleasure jolted through me.

This was _certainly _not the childlike, innocent Enrique from before. He was all grown up, and knew exactly what he wanted to do to me.

His torso leaned back, but he didn't move his feet, eyes of sapphire blue inquisitive, uncertain, but with one critical look at me he determined that it was all okay, and it was. Oh, fuck, it was ok. It would have happened before but we'd never had the chance. This was just tying up all the loose ends. This _needed_ to happen. I shuddered involuntarily as his hand ghosted down the back of my thigh, stopping at my knee to hoist my left leg up against his hip, his other hand on the small of my back, and I kissed him as hard as I possibly could. And the hand on my leg moved back to where it had been. My breathing was jagged and uneven as the hand inside my pretty lace panties applied more pressure and speed, and I couldn't concentrate enough to kiss him anymore, my head leaning back against the wall, staring straight forwards at him with what I'm sure were smoky and half-lidded eyes. He muffled the moan he elicted from me with the deepest kiss I think I'd ever had, and I moved my mouth against his as his hand moved back to my hip. I broke away and glanced into my bedroom, thankful my bed wasn't covered in clothes and stuff like it normally was, and noting that my bedroom door was half open, and we were in plain view of anyone who came up to this part of the house – and they were probably going to start missing us sometime soon – I took hold of his hand and led him into my room, passing by the door to pull it shut before pushing him onto my bed and pulling that damned shirt off him.

My hands were preoccupied with his belt, his with my_ perfect_ butt as he nipped my collarbone with those brilliantly white teeth before moving onto my neck, that same hand from before hooking under a black lace waistband.

"If you leave a mark, I swear I'll castrate you, Enr..." my warning was muffled by the moan that rose up in my throat after it, caused by some magic he was weaving with those gifted hands of his, and I saw him smile wickedly as his hands removed themselves from my underwear to tend to my bra.

"Wait until later to do that, Allie," he chuckled, strong arms wrapping around me, pulling me into his lap. My legs shifted to clamp around his hips, and I kissed him and kissed him and kissed him, making up for two years lost, his skin so warm against mine and his mouth so amazing to finally taste again.

I loved it when everything was perfect.

They were just going to have to miss our company downstairs, because this hour was ours.

* * *

Kai watched as Anna gracefully served dessert, certain that there couldn't be any other woman in the world who could master such a housewife-y skill so elegantly. Enrique and Allie had been gone for quite some time. She'd seemed a little put off earlier. His eyes lingered on the sick girl at the table, and he realised it was probably incredibly overwhelming for her to see someone she was so close to so ill. And Enrique had been there for Evie, and he'd gathered that he and Allie had been good friends at St. Louis. They were probably just talking. Enrique could probably offer a lot of support that no one else could.

They had been gone for a while though. They'd probably finished discussing anything to deep and meaningful, and they'd probably like to know dessert was being served.

"I'll go and tell Allie and Enrique that dessert's on," offered Kai, and Anna smiled at him.

"Thanks Kai, darling. Allie's room is just upstairs and on the left at the very end of the hallway. They're probably up there catching up. They were best friends as kids," she added, pointing up the staircase.

Slightly roughened hands pushed his chair in, and he strode up the stairs and along the corridor to the last room on the left. The lights were on, and the door was half open. He was about to push it open when a low whisper and a moan ceased him before his hand touched the doorknob. Blinking in surprise, he stood back, and his eyes stared straight forwards, right into the en suite – the door had been left wide open, revealing a preoccupied Allie, undoing buttons on Enrique's shirt as he slipped her dress off her skin, her breathing all delightfully uneven. Kai felt a stab of jealousy, wishing that it was him there in that damned Italian's place, too stunned to react. She was so fucking hot... Seeing this just made him more determined to ensure that something happened between them. He took a step backwards without looking away. He was still too out of it to think properly. Enrique's hands were all over her perfect body as she pushed his shirt back and kissed him, moaning loudly as his mouth blazed along the line of her bra and his hand slipped beneath her underwear.

He snapped out of it, turning quickly on his heel to leave before either of them saw him, too scared of making a noise to shut the door. He smirked to himself as he made his way back down the stairs, thinking absently of an excuse to make on their behalf, another thought overriding it.

Her lingerie had been of black lace and violet ribbons.

Like I said.... racy.

Anyway, this is going to pan out to be Kai/Allie, of course, so don't worry. Enrique is just her unfinished business. Besides, what's a fic without a decent love triangle?

Reviews are always appreciated :) They're my main motivation.

Thanks for reading :)


	3. Chapter 3

So, thank you for the compliments, reviews and favourites   
Sorry about the wait before the update. Just moving around, getting caught up in Twilight. Broke my hand and couldn't type too well also. Lol.

Anyway, this should be the last chapter before things start to really get going.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Dyevochka  
****  
Chapter 3**

* * *

So, apparently, I was making a substantial amount of progress, I concluded, and rather gleefully so, as I strode across the dining hall to 'our' table as heads turned and eyes followed me. My lips curved into a smug, wicked little grin that wasn't lost on Enrique as I sidled in beside him and Mariah.

"You seem pleased with something..."

I answered him in French – the others wouldn't recognise the language – and deliberately loud enough for Kai to hear. "Our pool and hot tub just got finished, and Mom's taking the twins out to a movie after school and then probably for pizza... I thought, perhaps, that you might want to come over after school and... Well, you know, _test_ these new aquatic facilities with me."

My tone had been suggestive enough in itself, but I lifted an eyebrow with much the same underlying sentiment for emphasis. Blue eyes smiled like his mouth, its usual gentle curve replaced by a grin of the sort that incensed all sorts of sinful thoughts to rise to the surface of my mind.

So, during a conversation with Mariah and Ebon several days earlier I'd learned that Kai was quite the type of boy to succumb to jealousy with only the slightest provocation, and I had every intention of milking that little weakness of his for all its worth. Such precious knowledge was the very advantage I needed.

And having the boy who would very well have been the first love of my life if my father hadn't whisked the family off to all odd ends in Europe certainly helped things tie up nicely for me too.

Every single time I'd seen Enrique this week – whether he was sitting in front of me in class, next to me at lunch, passing me in the hallway, or falling asleep in assembly – I'd wanted to push him into a janitor's closet and jump him.

I wanted to fall in love with him, I found myself thinking, feeling some nostalgia or something simmering deep inside me.

It's what would have happened. And I kept wishing that it had.

He was so charming and sweet and polite and lovely – that hadn't changed at all. These days he was just insanely effing hot too.

Too bad for me though, because I had to keep Kai interested in me or I'd just sink myself off the social ladder in a shining display of social suicide. And there was no way in the seventh circle of hell that I was letting that happen.

I didn't want to go out with Kai because I thought he was hot or nice or cute or all those other reasons girls go out with boys for. I just wanted every other girl at this damned school to be jealous of me. He was a jerk. Not even those good looks were enough to make me actually think of him as decent material for a potential boyfriend. No, only his status amongst his peers.

Enrique was well sought after, but he'd get with any girl who offered, and convincing him to date someone was just as easy. He was hardly a challenge. Kai, however, was an utter difficulty. Rarely dated anyone, apparently, and it rarely ever lasted longer than a few months. If I managed to get him to go out with me then everyone would think I was utterly amazing. It would pretty much secure me into the position of the most powerful girl in the school, and I craved it so much.

Enough that I would hold back from starting back from where I'd left off with Enrique. Besides, we'd both grown and changed so much since then. But.... Hooking up with him, having an obvious affection for him would certainly get Kai's attention focused entirely on me, if he really was the type of guy Mariah made him out to be. She had her own boy troubles though - with this Chinese guy on the track team - so I was trying not to be too dependent on her in all of this. As long as nothing too official sprung up between Enrique and me... if I was off limits Kai would probably be incredibly deterred.

I was going to come out best in all of this.

"So, are you going to come tomorrow night, Allie?" Mariah enquired about the party everyone was talking about.

She positively beamed when I nodded in response. "Of course I am. Oh my goodness, you guys are like totally fantastic. Of course I'll come party with you. You'll be there right, Enrique?"

His arm curled around my waist as he responded, "If you're there, I'm there, Allie," he said sweetly, kissing my cheek. I'd have given anything for two years to tick back so I could curl up in his arms right there, at that one little fleeting moment.

"See, Ebon, that's everyone except you..." Mariah was looking rather pointedly at her best friend, arms folded across her chest, expression a little unimpressed.

Tala seemed incredulous. "What? Ebon," he began with a well placed little 'tsk', "You should come. It'll be so much better if you go!"

"Really? It's just a party, Tala..." she seemed a little bewildered as she looked up from her plate to frown, confused, in his direction.

He seemed so handsome when he shrugged so damned casually that I had to wonder how he pulled off both at once. "Yeah, it's just a party. Friends hanging out and crap. But you're our friend and it'd be cool if you could make it. _I'd _really appreciate it."

"Oh… Well, I'll go then."

"Thank you," replied Tala with such a handsome grin that I couldn't blame Ebon for the fierce blush that blossomed along her cheekbones. It might have even been enough for me to gain some colour if I'd been on the receiving end of it.

I wondered momentarily if it was more than just Tala's unfairly good looks and attention causing Ebon to blush like that, but the bell rang out with a shrill, piercing holler to end recess before I had the chance to push the matter at all. I decided to shelve it for later, suddenly curious.

A dormant bud of annoyance flowered up within me, instantly.

Music.

Blah.

Stupid, pointless class. I really opposed any participation in such a ridiculous excuse for a medium of 'education' such as westernised music classes in highschool.

But, I figured decisively, it meant I could spend more time roping Kai in and making a network of sorts out of his friends. I felt a bit mean, then, being so calculating about my relationships with such sweet people, but, well, I had no intentions of hurting or upsetting anyone. Except every other girl in this whole town when Kai decided he just _had_ to go out with me. Yay, deviousness.

I noticed him throw me a very deliberated glance as Enrique kissed my cheek 'goodbye' before bouncing off to his next class, Hilary on his arm, giggling at some most certainly awfully lame joke he'd made.

Before he looked away I made sure to catch those wine-dark eyes with my own, holding them in my gaze as they stared in my direction. "Music?"

He nodded, and we – without any reason - walked side-by-side behind Tala and the girls to Mr Broderick's classroom.

Mr. Broderick was a funny sort of man. The kind of adult who was cool but had definitely not been as a teenager in high school. He was skinny, scruffily unshaven, dark haired and dark eyed. Dressed in a nice pale lilac shirt that swallowed his torso and pressed black pants and very shiny shoes, I couldn't help but admire his style. He suited himself, looking every part the muso. A cellist, he had elegant hands and thin fingers, and used an _articulated _sort of manner of hand gestures when he spoke.

"So, the next module is Eastern European pop music. Yes, unfortunate, I know," he added with a chuckle at the collective low murmur of disapproval from his class, "We're splitting into bands of three – one drummer per group, please, if you can. I've put some music on the school's download network for you. Russian, Ukrainian, Czech. Each group will be assigned two songs from the same album. For the prac component you'll be required to make 3 covers of both songs. 2 assigned genres – jazz and acoustic… though both have specific criteria – and one of choice, performed in exam block. For the theory – analysis of each cover and the originals, lucky you. Criteria sheets will be handed out as groups are formed. You've got 2 minutes to sort yourselves…"

The class erupted into noise as everyone scrambled around to get a good group. Tala, Kai, Ebon and Mariah stayed put, and I followed their lead and remained in my seat.

"The class has the wrong number of students. We're always the group of four," explained Mariah.

"But _five, _is a bit big for my liking," said Broderick, having sailed over towards us. "A trio and pair, please. Ebon, you're a capable percussionist. You wouldn't mind flitting between groups?"

She shook her head. "That's fine, sir."

Only Tala protested. "Oh seriously…what's an extra person? That's unnecessary pressure on Ebon, sir. Deal with a group of five."

Broderick shook his head. "Department rules, Tala. You'll get special consideration, of course, Ebon. Anyway…the pair….?"

I looked around at the others, expecting Tala and Kai to pair up, or for someone to banish two of us….

"Allie and I will pair up, Mr Broderick," offered Kai, taking me by surprise.

I couldn't help but smile to myself.

Perfect.

He'd just opened up an opportunity for me to dig my nails into him so I wasn't going to have to find one myself and risk looking like I was so obviously after him anymore.

"Nice," Mr Broderick signalled his approval. "Ok…so… Same band, for Ebon's sake…" he paused, turning to the token redhead amongst us. "Tala, you said you're a fan of Zelonai?"

"Zelon_iy_, sir," correct Tala, complete with an exasperated roll of those lovely deep-sea blue eyes. "And yes, Brodo."

"Good. You can have tracks 1 and 2. And 3 and 4 for Allie and Kai. You don't need to worry about the vocals either. Last I checked our two Russian speakers were very reluctant singers," he added with a sly little grin that made me decide that I liked him as a teacher.

Zeloniy.

Halfway across the world and the band my brother had made me – absolutely enforced me – to grow to love was still somehow unfailing in its ability to haunt me.

Hours upon hours upon hours of Konstantin blasting their music through whichever house in whichever country we were living in had left a rather severe scar on me. It was good music and all, honestly…. But it took its toll on me due to overexposure, eventually.

"Ever listened to them?" asked Kai, his tone indicating that he was absolutely sure their name was unfailingly foreign to me, his arm gesturing for me to follow him into the music computer lab to download the tracks. "Like, you've travelled Europe rather extensively, haven't you?"

I nodded. "Surprisingly, I've even been to a concert. They do have a French album though," I explained.

Indeed, he seemed surprised. Though he smiled, and it was such a lovely grin that any other girl would have gone weak at the knees and followed him around for weeks on end just to catch a glimpse of it again.

I was stronger than his looks were good.

And I was going to come out on top of this whole charade because of it.

I hadn't been born yesterday.

Here he was, his whole dazzling, enchanting self, forgoing teaming up with his very best friend for an assignment, playing nice with me – and I was, without a doubt, the hottest topic in the school right now – and landing himself an opportunity to "work on an assignment" with me alone after hours.

The poor boy had no idea what he was getting himself into.

I caught his eye as I thought that, and a glimmer of some secret feeling concealed in those burnt crimson depths revealed itself for the barest sliver of a moment, and it made me wonder if perhaps he _did_ know exactly what he was getting himself into.

He shrugged, then, murmuring that Tala was a much bigger fan of Zeloniy than he'd ever been, and pinned me with a curious sort of look, quickly followed by a frown, and I couldn't help but shift away ever-so-slightly, feeling a little self conscious.

"What instrument do you play?"

Oh.

For fuck's sake!!

Jerk, made me feel all strange like that for nothing.

I glowered, but hoped he didn't catch my expression.

"Bagpipes," I nearly said, just so that he could freak out for a moment about our project – just so I could make him sweat a bit in return, but I didn't. "Piano, of course. I _can_ play the bass though."

"Ah, excellent," he seemed so delighted before a more sombre expression crossed his lovely features. "Look…. I'm sitting on straight 'A's so… well, I'm going to put a lot of work into this, just like everything else. Starting ASAP," I nodded and he continued. "Three meet-up sessions outside of school a week, if you can…"

Three?

_Three???_

When was I supposed to go shopping and have fun and wash my hair? Three!? Fucking slave-driving, self-centred twat, consuming all my time so bloody eagerly.

And if I refused he'd mention it to my mother, and I was still walking thin ice around her after breaking that stupid jug – it had been ugly for something so ridiculously expensive, anyway – so I couldn't do anything to cross her.

Kai was so precious to her. She'd known him as a child.

When he'd still been the angelic little child his mother seemed to think he still was.

I had the greatest urge to stamp my feet and throw something breakable.

Forcing in a deep breath, I tried with an enormous effort not to let my mannerisms betray how disgruntled I felt, and flashed him a smile that I hoped had him fluttering on the insides. "Of course, sounds perfectly reasonable," I lied, plotting out how to make the best of the situation.

* * *

Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. 3.30pm.

Three sessions a week, one-on-one with Kai Hiwitari in his mother's glorious mansion overlooking the ocean, all with my mother's absolute approval.

I should've felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Instead it felt like I was the one crawling over to him every other day. Like I was the puppet with the strings held by his fingers.

Grumble.

Across from me, Enrique noticed my irritation at something and chuckled. He'd always thought I had a rather adorable scowl.

It was almost four o'clock and we were sitting in the parlour drinking champagne and orange juice, eating strawberries and getting over all the disgruntled feelings a day of school had left us with.

Well, I was anyway. Enrique seemed to love going off to that academic prison.

I couldn't stand it.

That structured way of learning. Those predetermined subjects. The inability to study what we craved the knowledge of simply due to structure and curriculum. It felt like being shoved into a sealed box. Uncomfortable, escapeless.

As expected, my mother and the twins were no where to be seen, and the message written in my mother's immaculate handwriting said they'd be home sometime close to eight.

She had been forewarned that Enrique was coming over. It was better than dealing with her wrath if she found out I'd been sneaking around under her nose. She wouldn't have minded him being here, of course, which was the exact reason I'd made sure to tell her my plans. If Enrique – a boy she'd adored his whole life and thought the sun shined out of the rear of – had been here and she hadn't been told, she'd have reason to believe we were up to something.

Like fooling around in the hot tub.

He'd bought her some lovely flowers, all pretty shades of pale purples and whites, beautifully scented, put in a vase on her bedside table with a note from him.

Suck up.

But he always had been.

Such a charmer, my Enrique.

Well, should-be-my Enrique.

Once again I felt discontent about this whole situation, and Enrique snickered at my expression again, leaning across to brush a strand of midnight-brown back into place and kiss me on the mouth.

"Careful, I haven't finished yet," I reprimanded him, my eyes as playful as my tone.

He rolled his eyes and before I could blink the glass was out of my hand and he'd finished it for me. "Problem solved, Miss Michelson."

His tone changed as his voice rolled over my surname, because it had never been my surname and he knew it. Two pairs of blue eyes met, and we both laughed as he led me up stairs and down two corridors to find our indoor spa room.

My mother, like my father and all my grandparents, had expensive tastes. So our split level house had its own gym, full of equipment no one used and a door that led to a room with new wooden floors and an even new hot tub. And it had a balcony all walled by panels of shatter-proof glass, all taken up by one of two pools on the property, and accessible by an impressive glass door and also by two sets of stairs – one ascending from the lower floor, and one descending from the above balcony.

Enrique had been over enough since I'd rediscovered him to know exactly where our new addition to my mother's collection of expensive wants was going, and he could have led me there with his eyes shut.

But he never could shut his eyes around me, unless my lips were on his.

I'd never known a boy who could.

I wondered if Kai would be the same.

I was ever so determined to find out, when the time came.

I'd changed into a bikini and an afghan the moment I'd reached home. Hated that blasted school uniform. But Enrique didn't seem to think the swimwear was very necessary, and especially not the dress which had found it's temporary home in the corner of the floor.

My hands stopped his as they went to tug the strings undone.

"Not just yet…"

I just wanted to kiss him and hold his hands for now.

Forever.

Every time his mouth was on mine I wanted to curse my father to oblivion.

Had he not fucked up so badly – whatever it was he'd done – I'd still be at St Louis.

I'd still be one in control of each and every other student in the social network.

I'd be sneaking into the boys dorms and Enrique's bed because I'd already established my majesty at that school. I'd already had it.

I wouldn't have needed to sacrifice belonging with Enrique to gain power and position like I did here.

If only my father hadn't been so stupid then _this _– Enrique's perfect kisses and warm caresses and soft touches and his wonderful affection – would be something I could have.

Not for the first time, I felt discontent with my priorities.

Any normal person would have taken a chance at love over popularity.

Why couldn't I?

I doubted Kai would ever be able to look at me the way Enrique did. Like I was special and precious. Not just unbelievably attractive.

I doubted he'd ever kiss me for my benefit rather than his.

And yet I was so willing to give up everything Enrique offered to be with a boy who wanted to attain the most glorious, noteworthy notch on his bedpost because he was the final rung in my climb up this town's social ladder.

My thoughts were shaken out of me when Enrique pulled me into the water, and my wet hair swirled all around the pair of us, sticking to our skin. He grinned, beautiful as always, and dragged a sopping mass of dark, wet hair off my face and over my shoulder, kissing me so hard my mouth burned – but not at all unpleasantly.

This time when he began to untie the bow at the back of my neck I didn't protest, only leaned in closer to him, my fingers raking over the smooth, firm planes of his back and drawing him in closer. I loved the feel of his skin against mine. He was always so warm, and the water felt so soothing that, until he left just perfectly before eight o'clock in the evening, I hadn't had a single thought that even meandered anywhere near the prospect of tomorrow I was dreading so: my first study session alone with Kai Hiwitari.

* * *

Ok.

Next chapter: Allie and Kai "studying" together; the party; some problems; one very lovely Chinese boy and one cold, quiet student returning from exchange in Russia. Three punches, four kisses, and our favourite little triangle continuing on its merry little way.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated :)


	4. Chapter 4

Dyevochka  
Chapter 4

* * *

That Chinese boy Mariah couldn't seem to stop talking about was pretty damn fine.

So much so, I decided, that I'd let her get away with chewing my ear off over him.

Today was the first time he'd ever sat with us at lunch, though I'd definitely seen him around before and the others in our group seemed to get along quite well with him, particularly Kai.

He was _gorgeous. _

I could hardly believe just how glossy his raven-dark hair was, all soft about his pale face and swept back into a long, bound pony tail. His eyes looked like smoldering twin suns, twinkling through the dark of his hair, thickly lashed and full of such genuine kindness that I felt like I was going to melt into a great puddle of water right there in my seat.

And he was so completely into her.

Every word Mariah said – and damn, she could say about twice as many as a normal person in the span of a minute with half the number of breaths – was eagerly received and his approval always came with a dashing smile that had her cheeks darkening to the colour of her hair, which just made him grin even more affectionately and, in turn, her blush went even deeper.

Rei Kon.

He was just about the sweetest thing I'd ever met.

And he totally adored Mariah. Maybe even more than she adored him, if that were possible.

We were all in awe.

Even Tala and Kai seemed totally softened up by the presence of this new super-couple.

Like a hunk of lead dropping from the sky into my head, I realized right at that moment that, as happy as I was for the two of them, I had to hurry up and get my act together.

I couldn't have the whole school talking about them and how cute they were when I needed the attention for myself.

A loud bang and a student's holler boomed across the hall, and suddenly no one's attention was on me at all. Well, almost no one. I had to give kudos to Enrique, because while everyone's heads were turned away, he very quickly, sneakily, pecked me on the mouth before they all looked away from Tyson Kinomiya and returned to what they were doing. I prayed my burning cheeks weren't too obvious.

My eyes found Kai as he chatted to Tala and Oliver about some guy coming home from Russia, and my mood deflated even further so when I remembered that I was his academic slave for the afternoon. Couldn't be for too long though, I told myself, trying to be a little less pessimistic about my impending doom, because there was that party tonight on the other side of town.

A party that everyone seemed to be talking about.

Perhaps this would be my chance. It seemed like _everyone _would be there. And if everyone saw Kai chasing me all night….

Well…

The amount of gossip that could potentially result from that would be very, very good for me.

It was time to get the ball rolling.

First I had to figure out whose party it was.

Some Bryan guy.

It was hard to miss that much, what, with the whole hall buzzing like a bunch of detuned radios and televisions and the name "Bryan" flying around like a wasp on acid.

But… who was he?

I'd gathered enough loose ends of conversations to figure out that he was coming back from a semester in St Petersburg, that he was almost as rich as Kai, and that no one really knew anything about him.

And he was nowhere to be seen.

One or two people had seen him, and the rumors had incensed a flurry of gossip I'd never before imagined could have existed.

All over this mysterious Bryan.

Apparently everyone who hadn't already been going to this party wasn't going to dare miss it now.

Fuck.

I needed to figure out what to wear.

And I was being carted off to the Hiwitari estate to absolutely massacre my afternoon.

And I'd still need to get ready. Looking as fucking incredible as I did took a bit of effort. There was no way I was going to a party even the slightest bit less breathtaking than normal.

I was going to have to skip my last class, or bail on Kai. Option 2 was out. I didn't even bother to consider it. My mother would sooner skin a kitten than let me prioritize a party over a study session with the Hiwitari's precious, angelic Kai. Imagine how it would look to them, she'd say before launching into a horribly long spiel on the importance of maintaining the family's image, especially at the moment, given our current circumstances.

Papa would have been much more understanding. I had always been his favorite, his weak link. Even when he'd been relocating us every few months I still got pretty new dresses and lovely earrings and pearls and perfumes more than once a week. He'd take me out every Wednesday night, just the two of us, to the most luxurious of restaurants. Bottles of wine worth more than the weekly paycheck of the waiters, cutting in ahead of a month-long waiting list to book a table, often on a private balcony, just because he is who he is. If only he was here – this whole study thing would have been totally blown over. He would have just bought both myself and Kai 'A+'s and a new wing for the school library. None of this easy-on-the-conscience do-it-the-right-way bullshit that Kai was trying to use to keep his good image. The way my mother would certainly expect of me.

I only had maths left, and it was easily my best class.

Weighing up my options again, I figured that missing maths was hardly going to be detrimental. Even advanced calculus at this school was child's play.

Flicking my hair over my shoulder, in the sort of way that a girl like me could only ever be an absolute maestro at, I checked my appearance in a pocket mirror, so everyone could catch a glimpse and then notice just how pretty I was now – so that tonight they'd be amazed that someone could look even better than I did right at this moment – and slipped it back inside my little red leather Prada bag. My head lowered down to Ebon's – we did maths together.

"If anyone asks, I got sick and went home, ok?" I murmured, softly enough that only she could hear me.

"Y-yeah, sure…" she replied, a little taken off-guard as I stepped out from the table and sauntered off with the click-click-click of the heels of very non-school-regulation shoes and the lingering scent of Chanel perfume.

I just needed to get away before Kai realized I was leaving.

And I did.

As expected, the house was empty. My sisters were terrorizing their poor teacher and class at their new school, and my mother was out somewhere in the town, pretending to have an occupation of some sort while she sat in an office with a pretty view and did whatever she did.

So I did what any girl would do, home alone instead of at school.

Poured myself a glass of wine and ran a nice warm bath full of prettily smelling pink salts that we'd had shipped over from some little town in some exotic location. My clothes were on the floor of my sparkly little bathroom, and I was opening a new bottle of shampoo – vanilla scented, just like the swirls of steam permeating the air and fogging up my mirrors, when I heard my phone buzzing away in my bedroom, still silent from school.

Naked, I hurried into my bedroom to answer it. I hesitated before answering it. Unknown numbers always annoyed me. Enrique, Oliver, Mariah and Ebon all had my number. It _had _to be someone from closer to home. One of my brothers, perhaps.

"Allo, c'est Alla…"

"All_a_?" the voice repeated my name with the same French intonation, sounding surprised. "Excusez-moi, mademoiselle, mais _I'm looking for All__**ie**_!" The switch to English came with an escalation into a harsher, disapproving tone.

Fuck.

"What the hell do you want, Kai? Shouldn't you be in maths?"

I could practically hear him roll his eyes. "Shouldn't _you_ be in maths?"

Oh. I was in his maths class. Of course my wannabe stalker knew I hadn't shown up.

"Well, I'm not. Too fucking bad."

"Regardless," he moved on in a firm, clipped tone, "I'd like to know what's making you run home instead of to our _project session_." He sounded like he thought I'd forgotten. Wish I had.

I hoped he knew I was rolling my eyes. "I'm missing maths – not your damned study meeting. Like any bloody girl would pass up an opportunity to spend a few hours alone with the illustrious Kai Hiwitari," I added, my tone as nonchalant and detached as possible. But he already knew I was the one exception.

"I'll see you at 3.30 then."

"Or maybe 4.30? Last I checked detentions were the norm for students talking on their phones in class," I reminded him, acidly.

He scoffed. "You forgot something."

I resisted the urge to let out a dispassionate, exasperated sigh. "And, that would be…?"

"I'm Kai Hiwitari."

And the other end went dead.

I rolled my eyes. Of course he fucking was. Like every teacher's favorite little angel had ever had a detention in his life.

I called him back, and watched my phone's screen as he ignored my call. I tried again. After three dial tones, he answered, voice surprisingly pleasant. "Yes, Allie?"

"How the hell did you get my number?"

He just chuckled into the phone and hung up. That audacious bastard laughed at me and then was brazen enough to leave me hanging! He was totally paying for that, I decided as I saved his number into my phone.

Luckily our taps stopped off automatically, once the baths reached certain capacities. My bedroom carpet wouldn't have appreciated the water overflowing. Irritated, I stepped into the hot water and laid back until my face was under the surface, my hair fanning out around me for a moment before I straightened up and reached for my wine, wishing it was a deep red instead of Riesling.

When I'd finished it the water had cooled enough that I was over just lulling around and doing nothing except mull over Kai and several ways to dump his stupid ass in the most socially excruciating way once I'd been going out with him for long enough. Stupid, stupid boy. If he thought he had a chance of messing with me…

I was careful that every product I used was rose or vanilla scented. Soap, shampoo, conditioner, gloss serum, straightening balm, exfoliant, toner, moisturizer, hand cream.

I had the strangest urge to wear one of several lovely corsets I owned.

But I had every intention of showing as much skin as possible without stooping below a certain threshold of classy.

Which always entailed something backless, and, therefore, no corset.

When I couldn't figure out what to wear I usually just wore black.

There was no mistake possible when it came to a LBD.

And I had quite the collection of them.

Yet none of them seemed quite right for the occasion.

And I only had several other dresses with low backs.

I retrieved them from my wardrobe, dancing around my bedroom in a new La Perla design that wasn't supposed to be released yet and my eyes caught a flash of the palest ice blue material I'd ever seen.

It was a dress I vaguely remembered my father buying me while we were in either Prague or Belgium. Hand-made couture by a tiny little dressmaker's boutique that most people had to make appointments to see the designs of. Luckily my daddy was good friends with the owner's son.

He'd thought it would go well with my eyes. In truth, I'd never worn it to find out. None of the dresses he'd bought me before we came here had been worn simply out of spite. I'd been rather angry at him for a little while there.

It was so pretty. And backless, I discovered, flipping it over, to my great delight.

The first layer was dark and slim-fitted, and the thin straps pulled the top of it into a deep sweetheart neckline before reaching over my shoulders where the squared-off v shaped plummeted to the back of my waist, chiffon of the darkest, blackened shade of blue clinging tightly to the material underneath. It fell in a gather at the front, but the material was thin enough to see the shape of the layer beneath. The light blue came in the form of a ribbon sash around the waist, directly at the seam of the plummet on the back. I soon noticed tiny, delicate floral embroidery of the same color curling around the gentle fall of the skirt.

It was so perfect.

Yay. Take that Mr. I'm-Kai-Hiwitari-And-Everybody-Loves-Me.

I set my hair straightener on and proceeded to blow-dry the hell out of my hair while I waited for it to heat up. I sighed a little as I ran it through thick strands of hair I'd gathered between my fingers. The purple streaks – which were, as it happened, perfectly natural – always seemed extra vibrant and pretty when they were hot.

My hair was long enough that I always had to take a break halfway through to allow my straightener to reheat, but that gave me time to do my makeup.

Dark eyes or dark mouth, never both unless you wanted to look like a drag queen running late to their special cabaret during Mardi Gras.

There was no point in even considering the options. I always chose to make my eyes stand out. How could I not, with eyes as pretty a colour as mine?

Once I finished I slipped into a dainty little cotton dress I bought once to wear to a summer picnic – before I changed my mind and bought another one – and stood back to appreciate my excellent artistry and good genes in the mirror, holding the blue dress up against me.

I suddenly felt very sorry for Kai Hiwitari.

The poor boy didn't stand a chance.

* * *

If he was at all put off by my soured mood he certainly hid it well. He seemed so… _pleasant…_ when he opened the door of my car for me when I arrived, his flawless features relaxed, smile as handsome as ever.

"You look lovely, All_a_," he murmured in such an approving tone that if I hadn't been in such a state of irritation I might have had a terrible urge to do something atrocious like kiss him. However, I _was_ in quite a bitter state of irritation, and I received the use of my real name with a great surge of dissatisfaction alongside.

"All_ie_," I corrected him with a snap, and it took more than a reasonable amount of effort to force myself to be polite, "and thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied softly, followed by a little chuckle as he ushered me inside.

Why was he being so sweet? Was he trying to look good in front of Capucine or something?

"We're alone today, I'm afraid," he told me, as if he could read my mind. My mother has to deal with some last minute alterations to a few pieces of her collection for next season before Bakuten's fashion week. They always get a little flustered this time of year."

Boo. Just my luck.

"I see you started to get ready early…" he eyed my sleek, super glossy hair and careful makeup. "Good idea. I thought we might head over early so you can meet Bryan."

"Bryan?" I repeated, eyes narrowing as well as my mind. Like I really wanted to meet another person who helped make up the male portion of Kai's posse.

He nodded. "Boris, really. But we call him Bryan over here. He's my mother's godson."

Ugh. Another stitch tying us all together. Bryan and I were like god-cousins or something. Something. Kai was my mother's godson, and Bryan was Kai's mother's godson. Bah!

So damned non-incestuously well… _incestuous. _But not.

How the hell could so many people from all across the damned world be so interconnected with each other and all wind up in this tiny little town together?

"Would you like a glass of wine or something," Kai offered, and I noticed we had walked all the way to the kitchen.

I shook my head at him. "No, thank you."

"Coffee?"

I shook my head again.

He frowned delicately and poured a glass of water and pushed it towards me. "It'd make me feel a lot better if you had something, Allie," he cut in quickly when I opened my mouth to try and protest.

"Thank you," I mumbled, sipping a small mouthful and turning around to take in my surroundings.

It was a lovely house. I heard him chuckle when my eyes widened as they stumbled across things here and there that I hadn't seen in anyone else's house since I'd left Holland. He seemed proud.

"My mother got it all on her own. Voltaire didn't give her anything except a tainted surname," he told me. He sounded proud, but also a little bitter all at once.

It was impressive.

We had similar lounges and priceless art work, sculptures and bits and pieces too – but my family benefitted from generations of old money. To build up to this from scratch certainly was something.

But I'd always known Capucine Hiwitari was something of a soldier. Strong, smart, determined. More so than almost every other person I'd ever met or heard of.

And her strength was certainly reflected in the tenacity of her son.

Like he could read my mind and hear my every thought, his eyes lifted to mine and he flashed me a charming smile that made my stomach flutter and my face flush.

I'd have to be careful around this one.

I'd never succeed if he could reduce me to a blushing, dazed mess with as much as a smile.

Again, he grinned and my heart raced.

Sourly, I noted how weak my knees went.

* * *

Her talent was certainly impressive, mused Kai, watching, from the corner of the room, as Allie stretched her fingers out to play a piece of layers of complex melodies and haunting harmonies to accustom herself to his piano.

He'd never heard anything quite like it.

It sounded like something that couldn't be done with 3 pairs of hands, let alone just one.

"It's a lovely piano," he heard her mumble softly above the hum of one last, lingering note. She paused, turning to face him. "Do you play?"

Kai let his shoulders roll into a casual sort of shrug. "Yeah, but definitely not as well as you."

"Maybe we should do a duet sometime," she pondered rather quietly, and he didn't really recognize her voice when it was using that tone, and music once again began to fill in the stillness as her fingers absentmindedly danced across the keys. Ghosted, like she wasn't even paying attention.

"My brother Nick and I always did duets together… Ha," she scoffed, perhaps a little disdainfully, "we never lost an eisteddfod or recital either. I don't think we ever even came second."

Haughtiness all tucked away and all those unnatural sorts of refinements broken away by this natural kind of magic seeping into her from the music, she seemed like a completely different person.

Perhaps this was Alla he was getting to know and not Allie.

The girl behind the façade that intrigued him so.

"That must have been pretty rough…"

She looked over at him. "What must have?" she inquired, fingers still playing out that pretty melody.

Kai's mouth flickered into a quick smile at her lack of attention. "Having to leave your brothers and father behind…. All your friends…"

Her smile was so small and sad that it was nearly a grimace. "Yeah, but Nick is at university anyway, and Stan was never in the same country as us anyway. And it wasn't _all _my friends. My mother very conveniently decided to move here because all of _her_ closest friends moved here. And…well, their children are Evie, Enrique and Oliver. And we all went to St Louis together."

There was a slight pause in conversation, but the music continued on. "What's with you and Enrique anyway…?" he wondered if daring to ask was being far too bold.

Even this far away he couldn't possibly miss the blush that burned across her cheekbones. "We've just been missing each other. We were always very close," he hated how she picked her words so carefully when he was so obviously fishing for details.

"How close?" he pressed on.

She stopped playing long enough to scowl at him before continuing. "We dated in junior high. Then I moved."

"And now?"

Her sigh was one of the prettiest he'd ever heard. "Well… I'm not so sure. I think it's just this feeling we both have… sort of like nostalgia for what should have happened between us but never got the chance to. I'm not sure if we'll ever be anything committed or serious. I think that potential got nipped in the bud. He's my best friend. Sometimes we fool around. I don't consider us _too_ serious, if at all."

For some reason, Kai's reaction to those words involved him relaxing. He hadn't even noticed he'd been tense. Drawing in a deep breath, he finally recognized the piece she was playing.

"That's Dyevochka!" he exclaimed. "Track number 4! The one for our assignment…"

She cut him a dry glance just long enough for him to catch her rolling her eyes. "Duh, Space Cadet Hiwitari."

"It means 'girl'."

Even though he couldn't see, he could tell from her tone that she'd most certainly rolled her eyes again. "I know."

He listened, half disbelieving, as her articulation changed, chopping here and extending there, completely unpredictable but still somehow the same, the notes pulled into syncopation and swing-tailed. She was playing out a jazz cover. And it sounded perfect.

"I think perhaps the guitar should echo in the chorus, but I'm not sure about the rest. Maybe a counter melody or harmony, or perhaps we should transpose the baseline and embellish it up a little bit. But I don't know…"

She didn't stop playing once as she spoke, hands moving as if by their own accord.

Taking in her suggestions, and feeling very foolish next to this musical genius, he played along a little, unsure of where she was leading him in terms of her interpretation of the melody. It was a lot easier than he imagined. He'd been so in awe of how well she played piano that he'd forgotten he was pretty good at guitar himself. They fell into a sync with one another so naturally. He didn't even have to think as he added on to the piano music.

It seemed like hours had passed when his fingers finally started to hurt enough that he had to stop. And they had. Two of them.

He swore loudly in reflex when he checked his watch. "Sorry," he winced at Allie, having been raised to know better than swear around a female, "It's almost 6…"

"When were we supposed to be leaving?"

Shrugging, Kai moved up to put his guitar away. "I'd hoped for 6.30… But you're going to need to go home to get dressed and I need to get ready myself…"

The way she rolled her eyes at him stung a little bit, certainly not a compliment. "_Men_," she muttered rather distastefully. "Don't worry. My dress is in my car."

Of course it was. That was a relief, although, it should have been expected. Girls like Allie never took chances. He showed her a guest room she could change in, before speeding off to find something to wear.

* * *

We arrived in style, of course. The Hiwitari mother-and-son pair had a garage with a rather impressive inventory. I recognized the red BMW he often chose to show off in the school parking lot, but he seemed rather taken with the idea of risking his sleek black Aston Martin where drunk teenagers could stumble all around it and paint it with a nice shade of vomit. Prince Charming just laughed ever so casually at my warning and brushed it off as we pulled into the driveway of a stunning split-storey house that faced the edge of the woods that bordered the town, all large glass windows and timber paneling.

It wasn't particularly surprising that Tala was there to greet us. But he wasn't alone.

The boy standing beside him seemed more of a man. Tall and broad shouldered, he seemed so much more intimidating than the lithe redhead beside him. The folds and shadows of the fabric of his shirt promised hard muscles underneath, baring pale skin that seemed to glow in the moonlight where his buttons were undone. His eyes, so impossibly, were an even paler shade of blue than mine. Silver, almost, like frost, and his hair was a gentle shade of lilac. It was almost the exact color of the sky around the half-moon lingering above us, darkness fleeing the brilliant light. Frost and moonlight.

Tala opened my door for me, kissing my cheek rather unexpectedly and grinning fiercely at me as he commented on how I looked. "Fucking dazzling, Allie," were his words, and they were followed by a very approving, low wolfish whistle.

I returned the smile, complimenting him also. I secrectly liked his ability to swear so casually. He was so unlike other boys I knew, so forgetful of his manners yet always perfectly polite.

Kai and the other boy were hugging rather fiercely as though long lost brothers. When Kai finally stepped back Bryan – I presumed, anyway - noticed me, and his words slipped from Russian to English very swiftly so he didn't appear rude.

One of Kai's hands found my shoulder, urging me forward. "Allie, this is my mother's godson Bryan. He's just been in the south of Russia for a semester. Bryan, our token new girl…"

Bryan smiled at me, his features very kind despite his daunting build. As I looked into his eyes, I felt as though I recognized him. I told him as much and he eyed me a little critically… "Hmm… Perhaps. I'm Bryan Kuznetsov… I play a lot of hockey…."

And I hated sports, so it certainly wasn't that. I studied his face a little longer and another name occurred to me. "Igorovitch?"

His face reassembled into a curious frown. "Yes… How'd you know that?"

"I lived in Odessa…" I whispered, and realized that knowing what I knew about him wasn't good for either of us.

He looked startled, panicked eyes shifting to Kai's and back. "I-I had nothing to do with that…"

"I _know_," I choked out, forgetting how few people did actually know the truth of that awful week. "It was Boris Balkov… I'm glad you…" my voice trailed off, my throat suddenly sore. By the look in his delicately colored eyes he knew what I was going to say anyway. _I'm glad you're alive._

His smile was more of a grimace. Kai eyed me suspiciously.

"Ok… How about re-reacquainting inside before the others arrive?" Tala suggested rather loudly, and very obviously deliberately. I remembered at once, though it was a rather vague memory, that he'd mentioned sometime ago that he was from Ukraine.

He knew about it too.

Ten minutes later I found myself seated in a lounge suite with a shot of vodka in my hand and a piece of brown bread in the other, sitting in a circle with the boys. I'd attempted to protest, but to absolutely no avail.

The boys seemed surprised as my tongue wrapped around the Russian toast as easily as if it had been English, and after I swallowed the vodka and finished chewing through the chaser, I reminded them that I had done a lot of travelling.

"Fair enough," Tala shrugged, pouring us all another shot.

Again, my protestations were ignored.

After a third, I tried my hardest to resist a fourth. "I'm a _girl_," I grumbled at them. "I can't handle as much as you all can."

Kai just rolled his eyes and pushed a full shot glass into my hand.

I groaned inwardly. Tonight didn't look like it was going to be pretty, if we finished off a bottle of vodka before anyone even got here. At least we were doing 30ml shots instead of the standard Russian shots of 50ml.

Russian words rolled off my tongue again, still just as easily as before, and the cherry-infused vodka made my throat burn more than I expected it to. Sullenly, as though to protest their evil ways, I refused to eat the bread.

Tala snickered at my behavior and called me "Absolutely pitiful."

They were about to persuade me into a fifth when the sound of a car outside saved me. Tala and Bryan bounded down the stairs, as though they recognized the sound of it. I stayed behind, screwing the lid back onto the bottle. I went to pick up the shot glasses only to find that they had very discreetly run away in the whole of about 4 seconds.

"Here, Allie," I spun around – I hadn't realized Kai was still here – and found him holding out his hand for the bottle, the other full of the little glasses. I gave it to him, and followed him to the kitchen to put it away.

He'd just turned to put the vodka in the fridge when I failed to suppress a groan. It floated past my lips as my head spun, crazy colors all blurred together flashing in my vision. Slightly roughened hands caught me around my waist, one burning cold on the exposed skin of my back.

"Are you ok?" he asked quickly, steadying me as I swayed a little, my hand pressed into my temple as I groaned quietly again.

I nodded. "Fine," I assured him, although he didn't look like he believed me. "Just a little head spin. I'm a bit out of practice…"

He chuckled a little nervously, his laughter sounding very off. "No more just yet then," he murmured, peering down at me to check I was ok for himself.

His hands were still on me, his left moving to my lower back, and I noticed we were standing suspiciously close.

Daringly, I leaned in even closer. "Why even bother trying, Sasha?"

The last two syllables had slipped without meaning to.

His expression hardened, those eyes somehow darkening even further behind those locks of blue that always seemed to obscure his view. "How do you know my name?"

Not for the first time, I was absolutely relieved to be a quick, easy liar. "My mother's your godmother," I replied in a harsh tone, as though he was stupid for not realizing.

He gave a little shrug, thankfully satisfied with that answer. "What am I not bothering to try?" his voice had never sounded more godly, the tone low and beautiful as he murmured in my ear, his cool breath fanning my face, his right hand smoothly ghosting over layers of chiffon to meet the other at the small of my back, bringing me in even closer.

Refusing to let him intimidate me with all his handsome looks and charm, I raised my head just the slightest, so his mouth was closer to my neck than my ear, pale eyes defiantly meeting his. "I'm sure you know exactly what I mean, Hiwitari…" and I was delighted to see his jaw clench, almost unnoticeably, as he repressed a shiver at the sound of _my _voice, my finger trailing down his chest, ice-water blue gaze unyielding.

His laugh was soft but pleasant in my ear. "I think perhaps you want me to bother…" he whispered, his lips so excruciatingly close to my skin before stepping away from me, gaze still met by mine.

"Kai!" a pretty little voice – female – reached us from outside the kitchen. Moments later, Ebon pranced in, beaming a little wider than normal when she noticed he had company.

"Allie!"

I frowned at her excitement. "Ebon… are you – are you _drunk_? Already?"

Those lovely green eyes rolled at me. "Almost," she answered rather honestly, giggling. "Tyson had pre-drinks with me and Max and Hilary. They like to pick on me…" she added childishly in a small voice, appearing very cute.

Kai was grinning at her, trying not to laugh. "Oh, Bonnie, Bonnie… Whatever will we do with you?" he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her as she gave him a greeting hug. "Tala's around somewhere. Have you seen him yet?"

She scowled darkly, rolling her eyes again. "Yes, but then Carmen got here."

I shrugged, totally bewildered when coffee-dark eyes flashed to mine to see if I knew what she was going on about.

"But everyone else is here…. Come down stairs. Stop being such closet alcoholics," she chastised us, tugging us along after her, one hand each in hers.

By 9pm, Bryan's house was ridiculously crowded. I'd found Enrique at some point, and then lost and found him again 4 more times. I was taking another turn at trying to relocate him, weaving my way through groups of people I hardly even recognised; occasionally coming across someone I actually knew the name of. It was like rummaging through buckets of mud trying to find my friends.

My adventure went continued upstairs, where I could hear a group of people conversing in Russian in one of the rooms, hoping that either Kai or Tala was one of them. I found the room it was coming from. The door was open so I didn't hesitate to enter.

The Russian conversation was booming out of a television.

However, the room was certainly not empty. Wide-eyed, I stopped dead in my tracks as I caught Mariah in the corner, all caught up in Rei's arms, kissing his face off so feverishly you'd have thought her parents were shipping her off to Europe tomorrow or something. I suppressed a snicker as well as I could, but she heard me, gold eyes flashing open, peering through veils of long candy-pink hair, over Rei's perfectly muscled shoulder to catch me grin wickedly at her as I shook my head. I held a finger up to my lips in a silent promise not to tell a soul, and backed out of the room, shutting the door softly behind me only to crash into the wall behind me.

Except it wasn't a wall, rather a gigantic boy – bigger than Bryan – I recognised vaguely from English, all deep red hair and a fierce expression, soldiering past me to storm down the hallway.

He didn't even turn around to glance at me, let alone check I was ok or apologise. I scowled, glaring daggers at him, my eyes icier than their colour as I silently condemned him for even daring to touch me or my dress and then be so audacious as to keep on walking. Didn't that fucktard have any clue – even the slightest inkling – who I was?

"Michael!" I dangerous voice roared from behind me. "Get the fuck back here and apologise to her…"

Another redhead brushed passed me, his movement just as fast but graceful. He'd sat next to me in maths on the first day. Brooklyn. _He_ was handsome. Well, perhaps more pretty than handsome. He had the most excellent case of gay-face.

I watched, helplessly, and in absolute horror as he tried to get Michael to stop running off by placing a hand on his shoulder, only for the taller boy to swing around like lightening and throw his fist into his jaw. There was a sickening crack and Brooklyn stumbled backwards and fell to the floor.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, shocked, but never one to scream or yell, racing over to my fallen classmate to see if he was ok.

His eyelids were shut, fluttering as he groaned, blood starting to pour out of his nose as he slowly, painfully, sat up, pale green eyes staring at me curiously.

"Are you ok, Brooklyn?" I whispered shakily, careful to stay far enough away from him that blood wouldn't get on my dress.

If he was dying, perhaps my vanity wouldn't have been so highly prioritised. But he wasn't.

He nodded grimly, looking up in time to see someone over to push Michael square in the chest after witnessing it. "Mystel, for goodness' sake… Don't bother with him…" he said hoarsely, but I could barely hear him and he was right beside me. Mystel didn't stand a chance of hearing him.

I looked back at the blood staining his pale shirt. We needed tissues. But Mystel and Michael were blocking off the stairway. I thought to call Kai before remembering my phone was in my bag somewhere in the kitchen.

Fuck.

Unable to do much, I kneeled beside Brooklyn and we both watched as Michael and Mystel exchanged punches, blow after blow, each hit loud and their curses deafening. _Men._

I saw someone coming up the stairs cautiously, obviously curious about this fight, and heard footsteps racing down the hallway behind me.

"Stay here a moment…" I heard Rei's gentle voice, and felt a little calmer knowing that someone sensible was here, looking up to see him kiss a scowling Mariah on the cheek before bravely heading over to the fighting macho-men. Surprising me, he managed to get around them and race off down the stairs. Probably getting help.

I raised a questioning eyebrow in Mariah's direction, and she let out a little huff of air, knowing I was wondering about her sour expression. "I wasn't finished kissing him yet," she explained, glaring at Michael and Mystel before her eyes dropped to Brooklyn.

"Oh my god! Brook!" she dropped to her knees, her haughty mood instantly devoured by worry. "No wonder Mystel's going berserk…"

Brooklyn shook his head at her. "Nah, it's because Michael just totally played Fiorella _and _Katie."

Mariah made a face. "Oh... ow."

She explained later that Fiorella was Mystel's ex, but they were still the absolute closest of friends, and that Katie was his younger sister. Michael's reputation was somewhat worse than Kai's, apparently, but dumping Fiorella and making a move on Katie on the same night stepped over the line.

I agreed.

What a jerk.

I vowed to make him pay for it when I was in charge of the social ladder.

Luckily for Brooklyn, there was an ensuite in one of the upstairs bedrooms and Mariah was unfazed enough by blood that she could help him clean up. I stood, a little shakily, and watched them go off as I saw Kai appear on the scene, Mystel pinned beneath Michael as he had the world punched out of him.

Kai looked murderous.

Snarly darkly, not loud enough for me to distinguish any words, he tore Michael off his friend and a pale fist connected with his stomach. Taking the opportunity created as Michael lurched forward, clutching his stomach, winded, Kai pushed him down onto the stairs, where I could just see the tops of Bryan's and Tala's heads, Tala disappearing with Michael as Bryan continued up the stairs.

They both shot a look at me before exchanging glances, and Bryan helped Mystel to his feet and they gingerly made their way to the stairs before disappearing down them. Kai was racing over to me, looking a complete wreck with worry.

"Oh, Allie, hun, are you ok?" he was crooning, I realised, and I felt that damned fluttering inside me again, my heart stop-starting and proceeding to speed up as his arms lightly enclosed me, hands brushing over my face and shoulders to check or comfort of something.

I nodded, a little numb. "Fine, Sa – Kai. I'm fine…"

"You poor girls are having a rough night tonight…"

My head tilted up at him, eyes demanding an explanation.

He grimaced, and I didn't know how to feel when I felt his lips kiss my forehead. Maybe he was a little drunk? "Well, Fiorella and Katie… And poor Ebon got herself drunk enough to go and find Tala so she could tell him just how she feels about him, and then walks in on him kissing Carmen with his shirt off. And you witnessing this mess…"

Kai's dark, burnt crimson eyes were very apologetic as he brushed my hair back behind my ear. "Are you _sure_ you're ok…?"

I nodded, finding it difficult to speak when he was this close to me.

What was wrong with me? Where was my control?

He seemed rather suspicious of my honesty. "I hope so…"

"Well, I am," I tried to snap and sound annoyed but I wasn't sure if I managed.

That lovely chuckle sounded in my ears again, and I felt my stupid drunken arms hold him even tighter, moving down around his waist.

"I don't really believe you," he informed me. "Would you like me to drive you home?"

I snorted rather scornfully. "You've been drinking, Kai."

"Four shots of vodka more than six hours ago. I'm Russian, and I love my mother too much to ruin the car she bought me for my birthday. I'm not drunk, Allie. You are."

Scowling, I huffed at him. "Am not."

I met his reproachful stare and looked away, blushing a little.

"I don't see you blush when you're sober…" he whispered.

I laughed, softly, hiccoughing on a giggle. How motherfucking insanely embarrassing!

"Cute," he mused, eyes sparkling.

I think I went even redder. Stupid boy. Too good looking than should have been legal for men.

"I'm not sober, but I'm not drunk, Kai."

He nodded, brushing that lovely morning-sky blue hair out of just as lovely eyes, and I think perhaps he decided to take me seriously this time.

My breath caught in my throat, my heart pounding so hard I was just waiting for a rib to crack, when he lowered his head to mine, eyes peering into depths of frozen snow-pale azure, and said, in a voice that was something between a whisper and murmur, and perhaps the most seductive and beautiful sound I'd possibly ever heard, "So it wouldn't be taking advantage of you, if, say, I kissed you?"

Stupidly, I whispered back, "No."

And he lowered his mouth to mine, sweet and soft, as gentle as imaginable, one hand on my back and the other cupping my face, my arms around his neck, fingertips able to reach his amazingly soft hair, as his lips burned against mine, all feverish and peaceful and ardent and languid and amazing and _perfect _all at once.

When he pulled away my gaze cast downward, face darkened to a flushed pink and my breath quite ridiculously uneven.

I stilled, a low, violent growl budding in my throat that made Kai warily let one arm pull away from me as I caught a glimpse of my sparkly satin shoes.

Blood.

All. Fucking. Over. Them.

Michael had just fucking committed social suicide.

* * *

Next chapter shouldn't be too long!

Hope this one was good. Please review/critique/etc.

Thanks goes out to **marishka91 **and **crystal tomoe** for reviewing the last chapter. Your compliments definitely make me happy  As for the triangle, Enrique is one of my favourite characters to write around with.


	5. Chapter 5

Welcome to Chapter 5!!!

Review replies are all the way down the bottom!

This chapter is just my perfect little set-up for the next one! So read and want more ;)

Thanks for reading this so far guys :)

**Dyevochka**  
Chapter 5

I couldn't get him out of my head.

It was noon on Saturday, and Kai had driven me home without crashing and letting me make enemies out of a power pole 10 hours ago, and I'd fallen asleep as soon as I slid between my favourite Egyptian cotton sheets, and then, after a very rejuvenating slumber, woken up to stagger downstairs where mom was making bacon and Spanish scrambled eggs for my late breakfast, positively beaming about my 'date with Kai' that I'd returned home from so late – I guessed that she'd seen him drop me off and walk me to the door - washed my hair and dressed myself for Saturday lunch.

We'd invited Mariah, Hilary, Ebon and Evie over – although I very much doubted we'd be seeing as much as a glimpse of Ebon. Poor thing probably wasn't feeling so good right now. In more than one way, the poor darling. Tala was such a moron, and that whole ordeal would definitely be hurting her today. As well as the after-effects of all that alcohol she'd managed to swallow up.

I, conversely, wasn't hungover in the slightest, and my brain was taking the opportunity to use this appallingly perfect clarity to obsess over none other than Kai Hiwitari and 'that kiss'.

'That kiss' had been possibly the most delightful kiss I think I'd ever participated in. Quite, quite possibly.

Definitely.

Though it'd have been better with his shirt off.

I slammed that idea down straight away. No, no, no. Bad Allie.

Oh, but that kiss!

Just the thought of his low, murmuring voice and gentle, protective sort of touch was making me feel a little light-headed.

I couldn't afford to let myself get too caught up with him, I tried to remind myself. But then I remembered exactly like what being caught up with him was like, and I felt every part of me swoon irrationally.

And he'd asked me first. If he could kiss me.

He was such a gentleman, asking my permission to let him kiss me.

Thinking about it made my bones turn to liquid.

Why was he so damned perfect?

_I_ was perfect, I told myself rather fiercely.

_Me!!_ Why on earth was I swooning over anyone? He should have been falling over at my feet, kissing my shoes.

But no, I had to go and end up with a nasty little crush on him. It was higher on my list of bad, awful things than horribly infectious exotic diseases. At least they could be prevented or cured with a shot or two.

I sighed, beginning to cut up strawberries for the cake my mother was assembling together with cream.

"Are you ok, Allochka?" she asked me when she heard my sigh, using an old nickname I hadn't heard for months at least.

"Yeah… it's ok, Mom."

She shook her head at me, grinning wickedly. "_So," _she began, and with that tone I knew what followed couldn't possibly be good, and I prepared myself, and quite rightly so, to cringe, "Kai Hiwitari, huh?"

I scoffed at her. "No, Mom. _No_."

She made a very skeptical sounding hum, indicating that she wasn't that easily persuaded. "He's a rather lovely boy," she mused aloud, baiting me. Or, at least, trying to.

"Of course _you'd_ think that," I scowled at her, but she wasn't looking at me to witness it, "He's your godson."

"And he's a rather _handsome_ one…" she continued, ignoring me.

I rolled my eyes. "Mom, I'm the best looking girl at my school. Probably in the whole state. You've got it completely around the wrong way."

Crazy-lady had the audacity to laugh at me. "Sure…"

And then she threw a grape at me, giggling.

I stared at her, mouth open, eyes wide. What the fuck was wrong with her? What the hell was she doing?? My mother was a lady. Not some bloody half-crazed monkey-woman who threw fruit at people and dared to ask me stupid questions about boys when she knew I was never the silly, blushing school girl daughter so many other mothers were unfortunate enough to have to deal with. Her laughter rang out again, and I think I suddenly developed a serious eye-twitch.

Seriously? What. The. Fuck?

Mom had just gotten around to rolling her eyes when the doorbell rang. I should have been the one rolling my eyes, but I was in a state of utter disbelief at her odd behaviour. Desperate to escape her, I put my knife down and headed to the foyer.

Briefly checking that my hair was still in its long, neat braid, I opened the door and my face fell as my heart skipped a beat and my stomach dropped.

"You're not Mariah or Evie…"

"You sound so disappointed, Allie," chuckled Kai, and he looked far too fucking handsome in that pale green shirt with a bouquet of pale flowers in his arms for me to gather any words on my tongue, so I simply stood back and gestured for him to come in.

I was going to fucking murder my mother in her sleep.

Her voice made me glower sourly when I heard it. "Ah, good afternoon Kai, darling," she exclaimed, so happy it was like the return of the prodigal son, kissing both sides of his face and commenting on 'that nice shirt'.

Like the poster child for good manners and sucking up, Kai extended the flowers to her, "For you. I thought they'd go rather nicely with kitchen curtains. Also, here's your mail. I thought I'd bring it in for you. Thank you so much for inviting us," he added, smiling politely, making my insides twist all funnily again rather than feel nauseated as he coddled my mother so sickeningly sweetly.

'I thought they'd go rather nicely with the kitchen curtains'...? For fuck's sake. What a pretentious suck up git. Like, who the hell does that? And admits it? My memory replayed his words in my mind.

"Us?" I repeated, swearing I wouldn't even wait for her to fall asleep if she'd invited Tala too.

"My mother's here too. She just got a call from Anthony when we pulled in. I daresay she'll join us very shortly."

My mother gestured for him to follow her, heading back to the kitchen, and when she'd turned away from us we turned to face each other. His expression was calm, but entirely unreadable. I had no idea what he was thinking, feeling or planning. Probably pretty triumphant. I'd feel like I'd just climbed Mt Everest, on top of the world, too, if I'd been a boy lucky enough to kiss Allie Michelson.

But I _did_ feel like I was on top of the world.

I'd been kissed by Kai Hiwitari.

And I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Replaying it in my mind.

So hot and sweet and smooth.

Every girl who hadn't already been jealous of me enough to want me dead certainly would be now. Well, if anyone had seen us. I pondered that thought for a moment, left feeling very unsure about any memory – or lack thereof- of witnesses.

"Allie…?" Kai's voice was careful, hesitant. I hadn't realised he was talking to me. How long had he been trying to get my attention?

"Huh? Yes, Kai?" I snapped back to reality, my head jerking up to face him.

He chuckled that lovely laugh, and I couldn't help but inhale much too quickly. "I was wondering how you're feeling this morning…"

"Fine, thank you."

And I didn't speak to him again until lunch, and only then when he directly asked me something.

It was just the four of us. The twins_ conveniently_ had a play date. My mother had rescheduled my friends for next week a few days beforehand. Evil bloody matchmaking witch.

I barely tasted anything I ate – it didn't taste anywhere near as good as he had, kissing me.

Ugh, stop with these damned obsessing thoughts!

But I couldn't help but notice that the pale sunlight worked wonders on his features, shadowing in all the right places, playing up that perfect jawline and the striking angles of his cheekbones. His shirt had the faintest white pinstripes embroidered on it, but it took the glare of the sun to bring them out enough to be visible. In this light, his eyes were so much brighter, the dark smouldering garnet illuminated to a slightly browned crimson. Warm and friendly, lashed by almost unnaturally thick, dark lashes. He did have beautiful eyes. And a beautiful smile; his teeth were so white, and nice and straight.

So were mine. It wasn't that big of a deal.

But this was totally like different.

He looked good in that shade of green. It contrasted perfectly with his eyes, complimented his pale complexion and wasn't dark enough to clash with his hair.

I wasn't the first girl to feel this way about him and I knew it.

That didn't, however, make me feel any better about feeling this way.

It was supposed to be the other way around, I grumbled to myself.

This wasn't fair.

I was going to have to up my game so that he didn't get too far ahead of me.

He's a jerk, I reminded myself. Player! Total jerk!

But it was so absurdly difficult to be convincing when he was sitting across from me looking like the sweetest boy anyone could ever possibly meet, charming away our mothers with his input in the conversation I held no interest in for the time being.

Oh and that smile. He just looked so purely angelic when he smiled like that, seraphic face so perfectly serene and happy, soft peppery-blue hair all falling about his pale face. I felt so compelled to launch myself across the table just to stroke the smooth skin of his cheek.

Across from me, Kai caught me studying him and smirked, smiling crookedly at me. I recoiled as though I was flinching, my cheeks traitorously burning a bright crimson when my fork slipped to me plate with the loudest clatter it possibly could, and I very deliberately started helping myself to some more food to push around my plate and pretend to eat. I didn't eat any of it. I wasn't hungry.

Well… I was. But for something entirely different. _Rawr._

I don't know how long I was sitting there, staring absently at my plate, sipping water every so often, occasionally cutting something up to move it across my plate. Restacking, resorting, and repiling everything on it over and over until my mother started clearing things away.

I pissbolted. Fled, straight up to my bedroom, wrenching my hair out of its braid, determined to get things my way or else.

He'd had a bit of me.

Tasted, barely, what I had to offer.

He'd taken the bait. Now I just had to make sure he was hooked, but not in control of the line.

I had to keep him chasing. Wanting. He had to keep wanting more. I couldn't let him be satisfied, take his fill of me and move on.

No, I had to offer him some competition.

Before I even thought to do it, my hands were dialling Enrique on my mobile.

There was nothing like a bit of healthy competition to keep boys on their toes.

I should probably have felt bad about using Enrique. But, well, he was perfectly well aware of what I was up to, and whatever was happening between us was... like a complement. The everything-we-didn't-get-around-to before I surreptitiously disappeared from St Louis and France altogether. We were just playing catch-up, and I wasn't sure if it was meant to lead anywhere further.

I wanted it to, I think. Maybe.

But I couldn't see how it would be possible if things went according to plan.

Besides, in my opinion, he was totally digging Tala's Carmen even if he refused to admit it.

And the dynamics of however the whole Carmen-Tala-Ebon fiasco turned out would have an influence on how everything between me, Kai and Enrique because of that. If Ebon managed to get through to Tala – and, seriously, how thick and oblivious could that boy possibly be? – then Enrique wouldn't feel bad making a move on Carmen. And then there'd be no triangle to make Kai jealous.

I was starting to think it didn't matter anymore though.

I wasn't sure I could resist him for very much longer.

* * *

I found her in her bare-walled bedroom. Undecorated, furnished with only the minimal necessities that a person really needed to get by – though, each item was, of course, luxurious in its own right. The curtains seemed too plain compared to her desk light – a little pink lamp shade over-layered with a touch of black lace, tassels beaded with crystal catching the light around its down-pointed curves; the one touch of colour and flair in her room. It didn't seem quite right to me; it didn't really suit her. She mustn't have unpacked too much just yet.

It shouldn't have been possible for a person to look so incredibly sexy just talking on the phone, lying on her stomach on a pale yellow comforter like that, murmuring in French as fast as it could possibly be spoken. She'd disappeared as soon as we'd finished lunch, but I stayed to help clean up before I decided to search for her. Not that I'd done very much of that – this was the first place I'd looked, and here she was.

Not that she'd really been there at lunch anyway, all off in her own little world. And then I'd caught her looking at me – and I knew she was thinking about last night. Without a doubt.

How couldn't she be?

I was.

I couldn't stop thinking about it.

About her.

Pleasingly, her room smelt just like her, if, perhaps, just a little less concentrated than she had up close in my arms last night. The piquant scent of cinnamon warmed the smooth, underlying smell of vanilla and the faintest touch of roses; it matched her so perfectly – a little touch of fire spicing up a girl of such striking elegance. Subconsciously, without even realising, I'd started breathing through my nose, as though I couldn't get enough of that intoxicating fragrance. It made me want to move in closer to her.

At that moment, I didn't think there was anything I wanted more than to kiss her and taste those lips once more.

She turned her head around to face me when she heard my feet shuffle at her doorway, veils of long, dark hair shifting over the grey satin that whispered over her pale back, and her eyes narrowed with an emotion that I couldn't really decipher.

"Ok, well, speak again soon, Enri… _Please_ come over later… Bye…" It didn't matter that she spoke in French. I understood every word I said, and she knew I did. Mom and I often used French at home, even more than Russian. Probably not coincidentally either; there was some subconscious but glaringly obvious association of France with her dear, late mother. I don't think Russia had the same sort of association with Voltaire that France did with my grandmother for her or she'd never have spoken another word of Russian again. She didn't speak French because of a preference for her mother over her father – although it was needless to say there is one – but, rather, simply because she missed her gravely.

Softly, Allie sighed when she closed her phone, pushing herself up to sit on the edge of her bed, slender legs crossed at her bare ankles.

"You got a letter," I smiled at her, stepping into her room to pass the envelope over to her.

In all truth, I'd never have imagined those cold eyes could ever be so warm, but the moment she read the front of it and recognised the elegant, black-inked handwriting her entire face lit up, eyes brightening up like the two most perfect stars I'd ever seen, the nuance no longer that of ice, a beautiful smile revealing those perfectly straight teeth.

She looked like a little girl, almost; she was so utterly delighted at getting this letter. Like there wasn't an ounce of time left in the world, she flipped it over and traced a French-manicured fingertip along the seal.

"You don't mind…?" she asked, with the learned politeness our stature and class so expected, if she could open the letter in my company.

"Sure, go ahead…" I smiled at her again, and I felt rather pleased to have been the messenger that made her so uncharacteristically cheerful.

I was seeing a little more of Alla rather than Allie today, I mused silently as she began to unfold her letter. The two were so easily distinguishable.

Before she started to read it, she glanced up at me to roll her pretty eyes. "Well, don't just stand around in the door way. Come in and sit down," she insisted, eyeing me stride over to one of two chairs in her room, before her attention quickly fell back to her letter.

Allie read quickly, the process full of happy little sighs every so often, and as she finished she emitted a purely delighted squeal I could never have thought possible from a girl like her.

She caught my bewildered look and shrank back from bouncing about on the bed like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar, straightening up and smoothing out her clothes, her expression quickly blanching away to be replaced by a stern, sombre look that seemed well practised.

"It's from Konstantin," she explained, and she held up two little rectangles of grey and green cardboard, waving them in my direction. I couldn't quite read them from where I was sitting, but I was sure that they were tickets.

She confirmed, in a joyous tone that, yes, they _were _tickets. Two doubles. With backstage passes, the lucky girl. "Zeloniy's playing in Bakuten City in three weeks," Her information and her overzealous reaction to it all surprised me. I hadn't realised she was that much of a fan… I'd expect Tala would act like this about them and rave and grin and jump around with too much enthusiasm, but it was funny to see coming out of Allie.

"Ah, I'm so excited!!" she tucked the letter into a drawer, but the tickets were still in her hands.

I snickered at her, and laughed even more when she scowled at me for it, "I didn't realise our music project was having such an effect on you…"

Like always, she rolled her eyes. "It means I have an excuse to stay in the city for a few days. Duh."

Smirking seemed the only response I could come up with. Fair enough. We lived in Bakuten, a little town south of the outskirts of the actual Bakuten City. It took just over an hour and a quarter to drive to the city centre, but it was usually pretty worth it.

I understood what she meant. Totally understood.

I'd grown up in Moscow and Paris.

I hated small towns too.

Although, after growing up around shady friends of family, dangerous secrets and months-after-months at times spent cautiously shuffling around from here to there, staying out of sight, the familiarity of gun shots and hit men, I had a lot of reasons to hate cities too.

Bakuten wasn't so bad when Tala or my mother were home.

Bakuten wasn't so bad now, either, since Allie had arrived.

"Have you been to the city yet, anyway?" I asked her, suddenly curious.

I nearly fell out of my seat when she shook her head. "Nope. Ugh, but what I'd do for some new shoes and a chance to dine out. This damned town has one real restaurant! I nearly died when I found out."

"We should go there," I decided suddenly. We could spend the night at Seaton Tower and go to Sharapova's for dinner, go clubbing later, and then spend tomorrow shopping and cruising around with some of our friends. "Yeah, you, me, Tala and some of the others."

A delicate frown fell about her pretty features. "What? You mean today?" she seemed a little astounded, but also like she thought it was the dumbest idea she'd ever heard, sweeping her hair over her shoulder while she spoke. I had to blink to be able to stop watching it tumble across her front, over her collar bones and chest to curl in at her hips, nodding in response to her question.

Again, she was rolling her eyes. "Well, how about next week instead? I've got homework to do. And Enrique's coming over tonight."

Pale eyes widened a little with surprise at my reflexive huff of breath, and then they narrowed and she grinned with satisfaction when she noticed a flicker of tension spin through me. We both easily recognised it as jealousy.

No point in trying to hide it then, I reasoned.

"How close are you two? Really, Allie?"

Even to my ears, my voice sounded a little cold – harsh, almost – but as much as I wanted to know the answer, I felt like I'd have to prepare for total agony if I didn't hear what I wanted to.

She tucked her knees under her chin, streaks of purple shimmering as her hair pooled around her. "Well… he's my best friend…"

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "That's not what I mean. And you know it."

Her small mouth pursed together and she stared everywhere but in my direction. "I'm not dating him or anything, if _that's _what you mean, Kai."

A little burst of happiness began to chase off that jealous worry that had been starting to rise up in me.

Still, I pressed on, asking what I'd never have thought myself brazen enough to ask.

"Have you slept with him?"

Blue eyes jumped up to mine instantly, and I couldn't tell from her expression whether she was more amazed at my daring, or horrified by it.

"No, I haven't," she admitted surprisingly softly – I'd expected her to be angry and to never hear the end of it.

I couldn't help but grin, even though a small ounce of doubt was sinking into me.

Even if she was lying, it didn't matter, because she wanted me to think she hadn't had sex with Enrique. If she really hadn't she still could have lied about that and said that they had. But she didn't want me thinking that.

The most beautiful, powerful girl I'd ever seen – the one girl I'd ever met who could, in all seriousness, easily get anything she wanted despite what someone like me thought about her – was trying to make a good impression.

Because she cared about what I thought of her.

Even if a guy did think she was a slut – and I knew _I _didn't – she could still have anything in the world.

Except perhaps that guy.

Which would be why his opinion of her mattered.

Ha.

My mouth betrayed my secret glee as it reflected my thoughts with a grin.

She wanted _me._

"Why do _you_ care so much, anyway?" she interrogated, snapping me out of my little epiphany, her voice somehow managing to be feisty and blunt all at once.

Silly girl. She sounded like she genuinely didn't get it.

Undoubtedly, she knew she was the prettiest girl who'd ever stepped foot into our little school, and she probably had been at her dear old St Louis too.

I found it hard to believe she didn't recognise the main reason boys were ever jealous of each other, especially when it came to her.

It's not like she was one of those shy girls who were pretty but hadn't ever had anyone around to let them know as much; she didn't lack self confidence – that much had been made shining crystal clear on the first day when she strode into our classroom like she owned it, flicking her hair and tugging on the collar of a blouse with one too many buttons undone.

The corner of my mouth kicked up into a lazy grin as I chuckled. Silly, confusing Allie.

"Why do you think?"

I almost flinched when her eyes flashed dangerously instead of rolling like I'd assumed they would, "Don't you dare play games with me, Sasha," she hissed in a low, snarling tone, and hearing her say my real name in that tone made me flinch inwardly in reflex.

It had come out of nowhere, this little outburst of ferocity, and the words of her warning lingered as her darkening eyes refused to leave mine.

In my experience people made threats when they wanted something they didn't deserve or when they were trying to protect something.

She was guarding herself, and quite vehemently so.

But what of?

Me, it seemed.

Of my "games".

And then it dawned on me.

Mariah.

Oh, fucking hell.

So, I had a bit of a reputation.

It was really just a tally of bad coincidences, bad timing and bad choices.

I'd slept with a few of the girls who were students at our school – or who had once been students, in some cases.

But that wasn't what had made Mariah so positively futile with me.

6 of them, and I'll admit it's a pretty high number, had, at some point, resembled something akin to girlfriends.

6 almost-sort-of-girlfriends that I'd slept with and broken up with shortly afterwards.

It looked bad.

It looked awful.

Vile, actually. I completely respected and understood Mariah's point of view. The first time she'd yelled at me, cornered in an empty school hallway, I'd been so stung by her words – and the truth in them - and the animosity that she, one of my dearest friends, held for me that I couldn't bring myself to try and let her know what had really been going on.

I had been planning on breaking up with Jessica for a month, and she'd begged me just to try and sort things out, try and fall back in sync with the whole 'us' thing. Somehow, we managed for a while, and one night in winter, stripping off wet clothes in front of the fire because we were absolutely freezing had turned into a very different night for both of us.

And it still just didn't seem right to me. So, we broke up, and her heart broke.

Breaking up with Hillary had been perfectly mutual. Taking our relationship further had been awkward, and we'd eaten a silent, despairingly uncomfortable breakfast together the next morning, unable to look each other in the eye without enduring a fit of painstaking embarrassment, and it was perfectly obvious that we were only meant to be just friends. We never spoke of that night again. Ever.

And Simone and Tanya and Naomi and Mariam had just not _worked_.

Like a default incompatibility.

They'd all insisted on sex.

All of them. Like they thought it would piece together the falling parts of all our doomed relationships. And it _never_ worked. The pieces just continued to tear apart, bit by bit, faster and faster.

And when they realised what I was already telling them – that it just wasn't _working_ – we'd give up on each other and break-up.

The girls at school were notorious gossipers – all those poor girls endured the worst of the "no one's good enough for him" reasoning all the other girls consoled them with, and that burned them more than our relationship failure had.

And so, when we'd broken up because I felt we just weren't right for another, they were all getting it mixed up in their heads, taunting themselves that _they _weren't good enoughfor _me_. Which was absurd.

They were all lovely.

But they all deserved boyfriends who reciprocated their feelings adequately.

My mother was still heartbroken over her lover's abandon when they were teenagers, all these years later.

There was no way in hell I'd _ever_ hurt someone the way he'd hurt her.

Even if it was his colouring that burned in my eyes, and his features that shaped my face, I swore if I ever met him I'd give him a real reason to fear the son he'd run away from before I was even born.

However, beyond all of that, the most frustrating, painful part of all of this was that Mariah, my lovely sweet Mariah, thought I was as bad as my father.

And now she'd convinced Allie of as much.

And I had to try and get her to see past all that.

* * *

Leave it to Kai-fucking-Hiwitari to knock my good mood out from under my feet.

I may as well have never received that letter from Konstantin, the way I was feeling now – all irritated and grouchy – as unspoken words lingered on Kai's lips, and his desire to say something was conveyed in the wary crease about his eyes and the occasional twitch of his firmed mouth.

I don't think either of us had really realised it, but he'd come across to sit on my bed at some point amid all the staring and the patch-worked questions, answers and offhanded remarks that resulted from our pathetic attempt at a conversation, and then, somehow, we'd both shuffled in closer to each other.

It was really rather revolting.

Worse, I couldn't think of a way to step back without drawing attention to the fact that we were almost touching.

Again.

Ugh, last night was the worst move I ever made.

Way to throw yourself into the deep end, Allie.

"I _like_ you, Allie," he admitted softly, and my mood soured further as I realised he was very aware of how _deliberately_ close he was sitting to me, "I thought perhaps last night was a rather satisfactory indication of that."

Surprisingly, I found no trace of a smirk when I dared to look up at him.

Well, duh. Who didn't like me? Which guy in the whole school besides gayface-Brooklyn didn't '_like'_ me?

So he thought he'd just come on up to my bedroom, deliver my letter to make me happy, and think he could get somewhere with me by saying something so ridiculously obvious like that?

He'd checked me out the first moment he saw me.

I already knew he wanted a piece of me.

And I wasn't giving him any more than I already had, until I got what I wanted out of dealing with him.

Popularity.

Vanity will be the death of me, I'm sure.

"Kai," I began to reply, slowly, not quite sure how to respond just yet. My pause lingered a little too long, I think, "You were drunk last night..."

This time, he smirked. Smirked like he'd caught me out on something totally red-handed.

"Allie, I drove you home last night. I wasn't drunk."

Fuck.

He _had _caught me out on something.

The following moment was long, quiet. I couldn't work out if it was an awkward silence or not.

Soft fingertips – softer than I remembered them being, anyway – brushed across my forehead, sweeping my hair to the side so he could tuck it behind my ear. I made very sure not to look into his eyes.

Wasn't falling for that again.

"You just don't _get it_, do you?" he was nearly whispering. He sounded a little crossed between amused and bemused. A bit of both. Mouth firmed into that usual smirk, arms crossed against his chest.

"Allie... I _like_ you. I want to ask you out."

...

My stomach froze, tore itself into 18 pieces, and plummeted.

Initially, I attributed the feeling to shock.

And then I realised something.

I had the upper hand. He'd just admitted that he wanted me. And all I'd done was kiss him. Ha! I was winning!

It was time to get serious.

My ribs hurt, the breath I drew was so deep, as I steadied myself and leaned away from him so I could meet his eyes.

Annoyingly, he seemed so genuinely sincere, and it took me a moment to remind myself that he fucked girls over habitually, like they were nothing, and that there was no way I was going to end any chance I had of fulfilling my materialistic aspirations by letting that course of social ruin take me down.

I managed to make myself grimace at him. "Kai... You hardly even know me."

The harsh curve of his smirk relaxed into a small smile, and it was very kind and soft. My stomach fluttered in reaction to seeing it.

Stupid traitorous body.

His hand moved back to my face again, the back of his hand so smooth as it stroked the angle of my cheekbone. Without thinking, I relaxed into his caress.

"How about you let me get to know you?"

How could I refuse when he was using _that_ tone of voice? When his hands were ghosting over my skin so gently, his too-fucking-perfect torso leaning around me in such affectionate positioning?

"I... I guess. I mean, we're working on that project together, and you're in two of my classes. It's not like we never get the chance."

His expression was frustratingly blasé. "Outside of all that...Away from school..."

I shrugged, praying it seemed as casual and natural as I tried to make it, "I suppose... What did you have in mind?" I dared to ask, and I had to wrestle with myself not to lunge forward and rip that damned pastel green shirt from his body and kiss him senseless.

No. I couldn't be the one giving.

He had to be the one that came to me, for this to work my way.

His hands dropped to his lap and I tried not to convey any of the slightest indications that I was disappointed that his hands weren't touching me anymore.

"How about we just talk, for now?"

It was very difficult to remember to try and dislike him, to remember that I just wanted him to use to play as a pawn to help carry out my plans, when he was being such a gentleman.

"About?"

There was silence for a moment, Kai brushing his silvery-blue hair to the side of his enchantingly pale face to curiously study my face.

"What's your favourite colour?" he asked, eyes narrowing with speculation.

"Brown."

"Why?"

Ugh, and what was annoying me was that he wasn't trying to annoy me. He wasn't being annoying in the least, and I so badly wanted a reason to dislike him... even if only a little bit. What was even worse was that I had absolutely no desire to evade his questions; I _wanted _to talk. Gross.

"Um... I guess because it's... familiar, or something. Houses have brown. Trees have brown. Shoes are brown. It's warm and homely. And I'm one of few people who look good in it, let alone totally effing hot."

I was rewarded with a smirk for that, and then the questions kept rolling.

"Where were you born?"

"St. Petersburg, while my parents were on holiday."

Mahogany-red eyes sparkled. "Ah, so you're Russian!" his exclamation sounded as cheerfully delighted as his smile looked.

Pushing myself back further onto my bed, in an absent-minded attempt to sit more comfortably, I horrified myself and smiled back with much the same playful sentiment. "In some sense, I guess, yes, I am."

"Favourite city or town?"

My thoughts didn't even unfold the answer for me; it just rolled off my tongue in instantaneous reflex. "Anywhere that snows in winter and rains in summer."

Whatever thoughts that evoked in him made him laugh softly under his breath. "Not Bakuten, then..."

My head shook. "No, definitely not. It's much too sunny here. I'll get a tan."

He wryly arched an eyebrow at me. "Pray tell what's wrong with tans?"

Before I could stop myself, my eyes were rolling. "Because everyone has them. And, sorry, but I'd rather look like a girl who spends all day going to ballets, the mall and reading than a surfer or a farmer. Pale skin is beautiful, and it's much more special. Everyone has a tan."

Soft laughter delighted my ears as he shook his head at me. "I'll take note never to ask you to join us on Sol Harbour road trips."

"On _what?_"

The dry expression his face fell into made me feel like I was supposed to feel very silly for being a girl and shallow. "The group sometimes goes a few hours south to go surfing over school breaks. There's a really nice beach at Sol de Gaminer, near the harbour. But, you'd come back brown as anything. So I'll remember not to bother asking you," The tone of his voice promised that he'd definitely ask me anyway, despite his words.

I liked my beaches grey, cold and miserable, complete with seaside cabins with very warm fireplaces and fresh cookies. Why bother with the water, and all that damned sand and sun? "I've never been surfing anyway. I doubt I'd be any fun."

He looked like the kid who'd just been told Santa wasn't real, mouth dropping open with utter disbelief. "You can't surf? You actually don't know how to _surf?_"

There was a little '_click!'_ as his jaw clamped shut a little too quickly with a little too much effort in reaction to the sour glare he found himself on the receiving end of. "No. But I doubt you're all too accomplished at fencing and gymnastics, are you, Sa- Kai."

"No, not quite," he mused following a little chuckle, "Guess we'll have to take you surfing sometime and teach you a thing or two."

"The hell you will," I huffed.

Imagine my nails and my skin and my hair dealing with _that._ Fuck no!

Kai just grinned.

"Shut up. Next question."

Our conversation paused as he thought of something to ask.

"When was your first kiss?"

I couldn't help but smile to myself as I thought about it. "When I was 14. At our Spring Ball. I was the prettiest girl there," I added smugly, but I knew he didn't doubt that.

"His name?"

My grin was devilish. "Enrique."

Nothing like a little encouragement of healthy competition.

Besides, it was true.

Impressed, he lifted an eyebrow and nodded at me, whistling through his teeth. "Small world, isn't it?"

"Sure is," I nodded.

"Speaking of which," he began after a stagnant pause, and the drop in his voice to such a low, muted tone indicated that our conversation was taking a very sinister turn, "How do you know about what happened with Bryan..."

My insides went icy and my skin seemed to draw tighter to my flesh, pinching along my bones at my joints.

"I lived in Odessa..." I whispered, hoping my voice didn't sound as hoarse as it felt.

He was staring at me now, darkened crimson eyes staring directly into mine, cold.

"I was _there_. Igor Kuznetzov was an associate of my father's. That whole week all of Odessa was either completely oblivious, or if they're anyone like you or me just _helpless_, knowing and waiting, safe, as one-by-one everyone in that office was slain. How he survived.... It's beyond me. Dad said that anyone who walked free of that mess – you know, the shit that went down with Balkov's section of Biovolt – was a dead man walking. Even four years later, Boris – _Bryan – _is lucky to be alive. It's pretty much miraculous..."

It didn't even register to me that I'd stopped speaking, my voice simply falling away to nothing. How morbid our topic had become, and so suddenly. He'd probably been baiting me this whole time with his stupid 20 questions. Jerk.

Kai grimaced, the short laugh that escaped his lips bitter and dark, and the bastard still managed to look so damned gorgeous, "Boris Balkov wouldn't dare lay a finger on the godson of a Hiwitari, even my mother's, scorned as she is. They let him go."

Red eyes still hadn't left mine. "Sorry.... I shouldn't have brought the topic up. I was just curious, very suddenly."

Shaking my head, I forgave him in a small voice and shrugged it off, my mood sinking even further into that great bleak pool of grey.

"How about you ask me something, now?" he offered, trying to lighten things a little.

I only really had one perplexing curiosity about him.

"Why do you call yourself Kai, Sasha?"

"Why don't you call yourself Alla?"

I scowled at him. "It's supposed to be my turn."

He smirked. I didn't know why.

"It's rather personal."

Yeah, because the details of my first kiss weren't personal or anything. I sent a blunt glare in his direction.

"Come out with me to dinner on Tuesday, and we can discuss it."

The pompous jerk was baiting me. Ugh! "I'm not that curious about it," I lied, and I did it well.

The barest touch of a grimace darkened his charming features. "I'd tell you. It's just something I prefer to tell those I'm better acquainted with."

"And _one _dinner will make us that much more acquainted?" I couldn't stop myself from scoffing at him.

My words caused him to pause, shut his mouth and stare at me for a moment while he thought. "No, probably about 3."

I think, perhaps, my draw dropped in a very unladylike manner. "_Three?_"

He nodded. "Three. Three dates. Dinner on Tuesday... um, something else on Thursday, and then come to the city on the weekend."

"Excuse me?"

He scowled. "I'm asking you out, Allie. Not just on one date, but three. Most girls would kill to be in your shoes right now."

"That's because they're Jimmy Choo," I muttered bitterly, just loudly enough for him to hear me and chuckle.

"Come on. I promise it won't be that bad," his eyes sparkled as he spoke, one of his hands returning to my hair.

Sure it won't be.

I knew I couldn't say no to him. Not to Kai Hiwitari. How could anyone? Even if he wasn't sitting this closely, one hand full of brown and purple hair, the other resting on my hip.... Even if... well, I swallowed tensely... Did he _have _to have such enchanting eyes and impressive arms? He didn't even need to be sitting so close. We didn't even need to be touching for this to be difficult. How the hell was I supposed to make a rational decision? This had to qualify as cheating. And yet... I don't think I really, really cared. Really.

God, he was absolutely beautiful. And so, so nice and polite.

But a jerk. And a player. And he's going to sleep with me and dump me and then I'll look like a piece of pathetic trash and let Miss-Popular-Mariam steal my throne.

And I could tell myself that one million times, and then he'd just smile at me, and I knew I didn't care.

He was totally perfect, and I knew it.

I wanted him.

And Allie Michelson always got everything she wanted.

Though, it wouldn't be official.

He wanted me to be his girlfriend at some stage, or he wouldn't have asked me out. I was sure of it. So if I just held back from allowing that little technicality to pass, I'd be getting what I wanted, and he'd still be coming after me for something.

I'd still be pulling the strings.

So, it was ok.

"Ok. I'd like to go on these three dates with you very much, Kai," I decided. "But whatever happens, it's happening slowly."

"Of course. They're just dates Allie. I'm not asking you to marry me. Not yet," he added jokingly with a playful wink, laughing.

I didn't laugh with him, and opted for a weak little smile instead. Not funny. "That might be just a little too much too soon, Kai."

"Allie..." he was murmuring softly, using _that_ low and sinfully pleasing voice, and when a soft lock of blue hair whispered against my face, I realised that we were a lot closer than I'd previously been aware of. His forehead was so close to mine that I could feel the warmth of his skin, and though my eyes were cast down, refusing to look up despite his gentle coaxing, I could almost feel the intensity of his gaze burning down in my direction. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," the words managed to escape my throat in a choked whisper. I swallowed anxiously and not without difficulty and heard him chuckle low and musically at me. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I was like putty in his fucking hands.

Hands that felt a-fricking-mazing against my skin, firmly pressed against my hip and the cusp of my neck and the underside of my head, buried beneath veils of long brown hair.

Pathetic, Allie. Pathetic.

"Allie...?" he hummed, his warm breath fanning my ear and I couldn't stop myself from shifting in closer to him. His hold felt so nice.

"Mmm?" I didn't even want to try to speak. I'm sure the results of such an attempt would have been perfectly humiliating.

Kai's voice was barely a whisper, and he spoke so softly that, even this close, it was almost inaudible, "Is it moving too fast, say, if I asked if I could kiss you? Now?"

I responded with the most stupid action possible: I looked up into those smouldering crimson eyes. But I was too far gone to chastise myself for it.

"I don't think so, Kai..."

He grinned in response, the hand on my back shifting further up.

I hadn't an ounce of logic or sensibility left.

There was no reasoning with myself now.

This whole Kai-Hiwitari-thing was proving dangerous for me.

I was going to have to up my game. Regain some poise and self-control... – one of his hands draped my hair behind my shoulders, pushing it aside to reveal my face more clearly, his thumb grazing my jawline before returning to where it had been on my neck –

_I could do it later_....

"May I kiss you again, please, Allie?"

I don't recall my brain even processing a coherent affirmative answer, let alone one even spilling out of my mouth, before his warm mouth covered mine, quick and smooth, as my hands found themselves tangled up in slate-blue hair.

For the second time in 24-hours I was kissing Kai Hiwitari.

He was winning.

...

For the second time in 24-hours I was kissing Kai Hiwitari.

...

We were _both_ winning.

* * *

**So, end chapter 5!**

**Basic summary of the chapter**: Kai is the nice guy. Allie is a bitch. Her plan is starting to backfire because Kai is just too sweet and charming.

**Next chapter**: Finding out a little bit about why Kai should even be interested in someone like Allie, especially if he's not in it for the looks and she hasn't got much of a nice personality and all. Some more of the Bryan deal-i-o. A bit of the Carmen/Tala/Ebon happenings, and, at least the lead up to Kai and Allie's first date and some Enri tension. Maybe the date too, if i don't use too many words.

**vanity-issues:** So, basically, you should find Allie to be self-centred and totally consumed by her own vanity. She's pretty much the epitome of a spoiled brat. Her older brothers adore her to teeny tiny pieces. She's her father's favourite child and it's very obvious to everyone in her family. Up until her father got into 'trouble'(and all that is coming up a bit later) she got everything she wanted without fail. Everyone has always loved her. She's always been the prettiest, the smartest, the best at everything. So of course she's totally full of herself. That's why she gets a little panicky when things don't seem perfect or go her way. That's all out of her depth. But now she's been shipped off to some small little town and her dad and brothers - the three people who spoilt her forever - aren't there anymore. i'm trying to make it seem like she's beginning to grow up a bit, at least since the first chapter. She's one of my favourite characters i've ever written about. Mainly because she bitches and complains about everything, and thinks of herself so much more highly than anyone ever should. i'm glad that she hasn't annoyed you enough to turn you away from reading though. guess i'm doing something right then!. As for the Russian stuff... i have a Russian background. Basically, Russian shots are nearly double a standard western shot. And, to chase, we eat a piece of brown bread. And you toast to your "health".

**bluephoenix65069: **Hehe, thanks! Keep reading to find it all out!

**amongst-azarath: **Lol. i'm a Perez Hilton obsessor, so that's where 'gay-face' came from. i like drunk Allie too, because that's when she forgets to be a bitch and is nicer than normal.

**senie: **Thanks!! ah, Allie's taste. Anything that costs too much, really. i don't think she's too unique. She's quite the generic snobby spoiled rich girl, but she's not all that bad when you get right down to it. Even though she's manipulative and self-centred.

**silverlastsforever:** Haha, well, i'm glad i won you over!! On the surface it's pretty predictable, i guess. But the darker dimension of the story has just started to kick off, with the Bryan and Sasha thing, and that's where i get to play around with some level of complexity. i think it'll be a good contrast. The superficiality and vanity of Allie compared to the sinister, serious stuff they're about to get caught up in. Allie's ok. She's a bitch and the sort of character you're supposed to love to hate in a way. Ebon's my real favourite, to be honest. And then probably Genevieve before Allie. Allie's fun to write about though, which, again, is good for that contrast. i don't want this to be too gloom and doom-y.

**Mika: **Yeah, Michael's totally in for it. But not just yet. But it will be good when the fic gets around to it, promise. i like their kiss too. i promise there are plenty more to come!

**crystal_tomoe: **Kai is obviously the main love interest, but i have every intention of keeping Enrique in the picture. Allie and Enrique certainly have a few moments to come even if it seems like she's totally forgotten he exists. They have a pretty intense bond. She can't resist him any more than she can resist Kai, but the dynamics of the two relationships are different. But that'll be more evident later :)


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